At a Crossroads
by Shy Snootles
Summary: Post ESB. AU. Incapable of recovering, physically and emotionally, from the blow of discovering the truth about Darth Vader and himself on Bespin, Luke falls deadly ill. Desperate and at the end of her rope, Princess Leia does the unthinkable: turn to her sworn enemy for help.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: After four and a half years, I'm back with what may very well be my final Star Wars story, if not my final story in any fandom. My swan song, although it feels more like an ugly duckling, _that_ unsatisfied I am with it. I started writing it in October, 2015, so that will give you an idea of the hell I've gone through.

I'm older, my parents are also older with all that it implies, and my quality time at the computer is all too brief.

As the years went by, my merciless nitpicking has ended up choking my creativity to the point of utter paralysis. _Nothing_ feels good enough, I'm constantly editing and re-editing and making it worse. Writing like this is torture, and I'm too much of a hedonist to hurt myself over something like this.

Rereading this story from the beginning, all the characters feel off, and I truly can't tell if it's real or it's all in my head.

Yeah, it is that depressing.

As I wrote the first third of the story, I was surprised by the fact that Leia was the true protagonist, a first for me. Picture my immense sadness when Carrie Fisher died in December, 2016. So, this story has become a sort of unintended homage to this remarkable woman and the unforgettable character she created, quite ahead of the times.

I want to dedicate "At a Crossroads" to my friend Barbara, who passed away last September at 42. Our fandoms rarely coincided, but she was a fanfiction enthusiast, always encouraging, always supportive. In her last few years, Steinert disease left her confined to a wheelchair, and reading, fanfiction and tv series/movies were her only escape. Wherever she is now, I know she's got a cosmic-sized library for her to enjoy to her heart's content. Farewell, my dear friend. Forever in my memory.

This is my longest SW story page-wise and the second longest word-wise, so brace yourselves for the slowest paced story you've ever read.

I also apologize for any typos and/or grammatical errors/oddly constructed sentences you come across. I still don't have a proofreader.

Now, considering what I just told you, proceed at your own risk, as they say.

May the Force be with you all, and thank you for your time.

* * *

' _Release your anger! Only your hatred can destroy me!'_

' _You'll find I'm full of surprises!'_

' _You are beaten! It is useless to resist!'_

' _I'll never join you!'_

' _Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.'_

' _He told me *you* killed him.'_

' _No, *I* am your father.'_

' _NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! No!'_

' _Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy as Father and Son.'_

' _Anakin, you're breaking my heart.'_

' _I'm doing it for you. To protect you.'_

' _You're going down a path I can't follow.'_

' _LIAR!'_

' _It seems in your anger you killed her.'_

' _Luke.'_

' _Father!'_

' _Luke!'_

' _LUKE!'_

' _It seems in your anger you killed him.'_

' _You killed_ him _.'_

' _YOU KILLED_ _ **HIM**_ _!'_

Vader's eyes popped open in his hyperbaric chamber. His breathing was fast and erratic, and his heartbeat was out of control. Anxiously, he looked around, as if expecting to find someone in the chamber beside him; but of course, there was no one.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a nightmare. A nightmare capable of throwing him off balance with its overpowering feeling of foreboding.

Why? And more importantly, why _now_?

What was the nightmare trying to tell him? What had changed since the last time - eons ago - for him to even remotely give a second thought to a dream like that?

' _YOU KILLED_ _ **HIM**_ _!'_

His heart skipped a beat when he remembered the subtle difference in the last part of his dream. His mind lit up with the image of a young face, full of bravado and foolish determination, and a pair of light eyes that looked at him full of scorn and revulsion, that gradually transformed into horror and shock.

' _Come with me,'_ he had said.

And the youth had chosen certain death over him.

Vader snarled with barely controlled rage. The child had escaped, but couldn't remain hidden forever. He had his best agents and bounty hunters on his trail, and one of them would eventually come up with something.

It was inevitable. Luke Skywalker's destiny was deeply entwined with his own, and neither of them had a choice in the matter. They would be together sooner or later.

Preferably sooner.

' _YOU KILLED_ **HIM**!

' _YOU KILLED_ _ **HIM**_ _!_ '

The bitter, angry words brought him back from his musings with a start; and at that moment, he knew that something was amiss.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what's wrong with him?" Leia asked the droid.

"I'm afraid I don't, your highness," 2-1B told the fidgeting Princess. "The hand implant was completely successful, and he's mostly recovered from the wounds he sustained. I venture to say that his ailment is more psychological than physical."

Leia pondered those words for a minute.

"Yes. Of course it is," she muttered.

"I suggest seeking psychological advice before his condition worsens," 2-1B recommended.

Leia worried at her lower lip, gauging all her options.

"I'll talk to him first," she finally resolved.

"Very well," the droid acquiesced.

Casting 2-1B a sad look, Leia turned about and strode into the adjacent chamber. Once inside, she headed directly for the small bed, where a half-reclining and despondent-looking Luke Skywalker stared off into the distance, oblivious to the two droids keeping him company. Threepio stood by the bed, trying to offer all the awkward comfort a protocol droid could, and Artoo emitted low and sorrowful beeps, commiserating with the young man's silent grief.

As she got closer, Leia's steps shortened and slowed, and her heart broke when she saw a lone tear sliding down a pale cheek. Luke didn't even try to wipe it away. He was there in body, but not in spirit. He didn't even acknowledge her presence when she stopped by his bedside. The two droids moved back respectfully, giving her space.

Seconds passed, and Luke didn't react. Shaking her head, Leia reached out and wiped the little tear away with the back of her finger. The young man blinked once, but remained as he was, totally withdrawn into himself.

Leia sighed when a second tear followed the first. It rolled all the way down and fell on the light gray robe Luke had been wearing the last few days.

"Luke, we need to talk about what's happening to you. About what happened in Cloud City." Her hand settled on top of the blond head and began to caress it up and down, up and down.

Luke's only response was turning away from her and shrinking into his bed, almost in a foetal position.

"I won't presume to know what happened between you two up there, because the answer is self-evident," Leia's voice shook with pain. "But I'm intelligent enough to guess there was more to it than your wounds and the utter shock of facing that monster."

Luke's left hand grabbed the coverlet and brought it up, covering his chest in a child-like fashion. His full body shudder made Leia choke up.

"Please, share with me," she begged him. "You know you can tell me everything. Even if I can't understand because it's got to do with... your special gift, you know I'll do my best to help. I care, Luke," she bit her lips. "I love you."

An anguished moan left Luke's throat.

"I can't."

"Don't you trust me?" Leia's heart broke a little bit more, if that was possible.

"Always!" Luke's head snapped back and looked at her for the first time, holding the coverlet to him. "But I will _never_ tell anyone what happened. You'd hate me," all his strength seemed to desert him, and he sank into the bed once more. The Princess saw how yet another part of him died right before her eyes.

"I could never hate you!" she exclaimed, tears finally flowing from her eyes. "How can you say that after all these years?! You're my anchor, you're the joy in my heart whenever I feel I can't go on. You're... you're a part of me, Luke. What happens to you also happens to me. Let me help you. Please!"

His lifeless eyes contemplated her like a haunted soul would look at the living from the other side of the grave.

"No one can help me, Leia. I'm cursed. Tainted. It's... in my blood, and it's marked me for good. Nothing will ever be the same. _I_ will never be the same."

Leia shivered from the very depths of her being at the look in those eyes. There was something in them... A horror beyond comprehension, beyond anything she could imagine or experience. And she hated Vader with all her soul for the light he had extinguished forever from those eyes. All the innocence, all the... purity Luke had embodied since she'd first known him, had been thoroughly crushed, turned to dust and left to rot in the rain.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, summoning the strength to say what she had to say.

"You will need help to get through this. You know that, don't you?"

The most poignant smile grazed his cracked lips and reaching out, he wiped the tears from her eyes.

"How could anyone help me, Leia? How could anyone possibly help me... from myself? From what I am? I'd have to die and be born as a different person," his eyes turned to the ceiling, devoid of all hope, of everything that made him the person he used to be. "I wish I was dead," he muttered to himself. "I wish... I wish..."

* * *

The Sith Lord walked into the bridge of the Executor and headed straight for the recently promoted Firmus Piett.

"Anything, Admiral?" he asked without preamble.

"No, milord," was the subdued reply. "The Rebel Fleet has scattered. Skywalker could be anywhere."

"His first priority should be rescuing his friend Solo from Jabba the Hutt," Vader ground his teeth before saying the name. "The Tatooine system and its vicinity is the logical choice."

"Our agents have spotted Lando Calrissian and the Wookiee already on the planet, but no trace of Skywalker as of yet," Piett informed.

Vader nodded to himself, deep in thought.

"One thing is certain, the rebels do know the concept of loyalty."

Piett's eyes opened wide at the value judgement coming from the ruthless Dark Lord.

"Keep searching," Vader ordered suddenly in his usual commanding tone. "Skywalker will show up sooner or later... and I will have him."

"Yes, milord," Piett nodded curtly.

* * *

"Well?" Leia stood from the couch where she'd been sitting the last 30 minutes.

Dr. Senna, the chief psychologist, walked up to the Princess and shook her head.

"He refuses to speak about the subject. He keeps saying that no one can help him, that no one would understand," she sighed and shrugged helplessly. "I can't help him if he doesn't want to be helped."

Leia's gaze lost into the distance.

"What did that bastard do to him?" she clenched her fists in outrage.

"I'm afraid we'll never know," the doctor said. "But I can tell you this."

The tone of Dr. Senna's voice was enough to make the little hairs on the back of Leia's neck stand on end.

"He's showing clear signs of depression and Post Traumatic Stress. He's got to open up and talk, or it will only get worse."

Leia's eyes fell closed.

"I can't let him do this to himself," she said. She opened her eyes and fixed them on the middle-aged, kind-eyed woman in front of her. "Can you come back tomorrow and try again?" she asked.

"I will," Dr. Senna nodded. "But I strongly doubt he'll open up to me."

"Why?" Leia asked.

"Whatever happened between him and Vader, I'm positive it was of a very personal nature. Vader did something to him that changed his perception of himself. It made him question the very... foundations of his being." She shook herself out of her introspective mood. "He's been broken in every way, and he's got to admit that before he can take the first steps for the healing process to begin."

Leia's stomach churned.

"And... if he doesn't?"

The look in the gentle eyes made the Princess' heart sink.

* * *

' _You die in childbirth.'_

' _And the baby?'_

' _I don't know.'_

' _It was only a dream.'_

' _Our baby is a blessing.'_

' _Luke.'_

' _Luke!'_

' _Are you an angel?'_

' _You killed him.'_

' _Father!'_

' _FATHER!'_

' _WHY?'_

' _ **You killed him**_ _!'_

Vader woke up once more in his hyperbaric chamber all breathless and sweaty. His heart seemed about to beat out of his chest, and the feeling of anxiety was a fetid, stinking shadow looming over him.

"Blast. Blast it!" he exclaimed, breathing deeply until his vitals were once again under control.

' _What is happening to me?'_ he asked himself. _'What... What is happening... to_ him _?'_

* * *

TEN DAYS LATER

The Princess stormed into Luke Skywalker's private quarters unnanounced, ready to bite his head off. Ten days, and Dr. Senna still hadn't made any progress. He was uncooperative, moody, sinking deeper and deeper into a place where no one could reach him. The good doctor was seriously considering to put him into medication.

It had been the last straw.

"Luke!" she called, when she came face to face with the empty bed.

Awful retching sounds coming from the bathroom brought her running to her friend's side.

Luke was kneeling on the floor, vomiting his guts out in the toilet. Without thinking, Leia grabbed the towel from the sink and dabbed at the back of his neck, kneeling down beside him.

Seconds later, Luke raised his head, breathing heavily. He coughed a couple times.

"Are you done?" she asked gently, wiping the sweat from the side of his face.

The young man nodded, turning his head aside.

"Can you stand?"

Luke nodded again, taking the towel from her hands and wiping his mouth with it.

Leia clasped his upper arm and held him steady while they rose to their feet. His skin was cold and clammy to the touch.

It was only when Luke brought down the towel that Leia got a good look at his naked torso. His ribs were visible under his skin.

"My goodness, how much weight did you lose?!" she cried out, alarmed.

"It doesn't matter," was the weak reply.

"What do you mean 'it doesn't matter'? Just look at you!" she shook her head in horror. "Haven't you been eating?"

"I can't hold anything down," Luke said matter-of-factly, shrugging her off and returning to his room a bit unsteadily.

Leia watched him go, studying his gaunt body, his stance, the resignation in his every step. It was as if he had given up.

A shiver went up and down her spine at the thought.

Luke climbed into bed and covered himself up to his waist with his left hand. He just lay there, unmoving, staring at the ceiling.

For the first time in her life, Leia was at a loss what to do. She had always been a strong and resolute person. She had always known what had to be done, what the best course of action was. But now she felt like a child, totally alone, facing a no-win situation.

Helplessness ate at her heart. She had already lost Han. He had been torn from her just when they'd finally admitted their love for each other. And now Luke - to whom she and Han had served as a bait - had been so savagely brutalized, physically and emotionally, that he was fading away before her eyes.

Her world was falling apart. She was losing it all.

* * *

Darth Vader stood still before the windows of the bridge, looking out like an untamed force of nature; inescapable, unyielding. Unforgiving. Lethal.

But even the most lethal force of nature has something to fear. A greater power to answer to.

Piett walked up to the Sith Lord with brisk, nervous steps.

"Lord Vader," he addressed the black form, "the Emperor wants you to communicate with him at once."

For long, inexorable seconds, Vader didn't react. He remained staring out, demanding the Universe to give him what he wanted.

Finally, he conceded temporary defeat and left the bridge.

* * *

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

A light blue holographic image flickered into view and looked down at the kneeling cyborg at its feet.

"I have felt an unsettling disturbance in the Force. Did you feel it too, my friend?"

"Yes, my master," Vader raised his head and faced the deformed, hooded creature.

"And what do you make of it, Lord Vader?"

Vader considered carefully his answer to the question.

"I cannot be sure, my master," he said at last. "Everything is unformed, uncertain."

"Do you think young Skywalker is the source of the disturbance?"

Did that question mean his master wasn't having any visions like he was? If it was so, then it was better to keep him in the dark... in more ways than one.

"Maybe," he replied noncommitally.

"I know you are eager to continue your search, but you must be patient. He will need time to recover from... your sweet fatherly attentions," an oily, guttural laughter gurgled in Palpatine's throat.

Something in Vader recoiled from those words and the twisted delight they conveyed.

"When the time comes, his full blossoming into the Force will make it inevitable. He will learn there is no choice. He will join us in the Dark Side, or die."

And for the first time in decades, Vader felt sick. Sick at the prospect of the monstruosity his master was - the monstruosity he himself had become - touching the purity and innocence he had briefly tasted.

"Yes, my master," he bowed his head, grinding his teeth at his own gesture of submission.

When the holographic image faded away, Vader remained kneeling on the floor, deadly still, hands tightly clenched at his sides.

* * *

"I'm sorry, but I can't allow this situation to continue," Dr. Senna said. "If we make no progress today, I'll have him medicated and intravenously fed. His _health_ is in the balance."

Leia bit her lower lip, looked away and nodded in compliance.

"Could I walk in on my own?" she requested all of a sudden, meeting the doctor's eyes earnestly. "Maybe he'll feel compelled to open up to me this time, instead of a complete stranger."

"I suppose it's worth a try," Dr. Senna nodded at the suggestion. "After all, nothing's worked so far." She set her jaw in firm determination. "But you musn't go on in there as just his friend. Your bearing must be supportive _but_ uncompromising. Don't let him shut you out and withdraw. Make it clear to him that this is his last chance, or drastic measures will have to be taken. You understand?"

Leia nodded sharply.

* * *

The door opened and Leia barged into Luke's quarters like a whirlwind. Unceremoniously, she grabbed a chair and placed it right beside the young man's bed with a loud sound.

Luke observed her with a sad, ironical and detached look, but didn't move from his reclining position on his bed.

Leia sat on the chair and did her fair share of staring, not allowing the mounting feeling of worry to show. Luke's eyes seemed to have sunk into their sockets, his cheekbones were more prominent and his nose looked sharper - horrifying testament to his tremendous weight loss and his ravaged psyche.

And in that moment, she knew she couldn't afford to fail. She _wouldn't_ leave this room without knowing what had turned that beautiful man into the shell of the person he used to be.

"No Dr. Senna today?" Luke asked hoarsely. He sounded like he hadn't used his voice in weeks.

"No," Leia replied drily, tilting her chin up. "We decided to try a different approach. You and I are going to talk. And talk. And keep talking, until I get an answer that makes sense out of you," her eyes blazed passionately. "Your life is at stake here and I'm not playing with that, you hear me?"

Luke's eyes dropped to the floor, revealing a soul deep weariness that only rivalled the melancholy he oozed through every pore. And for the first time, he looked old, really _old_ , as if his lifeforce had been sucked out of him.

His left hand clutched the coverlet, as though bracing himself for the upcoming battle of wills. Leia studied it for an instant and something nagged at her mind. There was a definite pattern here, a very telling pattern...

"Leia, this is useless," Luke's infinitely tired voice diverted her from her thoughts. "Please, I'm begging you. I can't..."

"Oh, you can't. You _can't_?!" the words were out of her lips before she could hold them back. Something in her snapped. "Do you think what happened to you was bad? Well, let's take a look at me for a change, shall we? I was tortured, and while I was being tortured I could hear the screams of the man I love from the end of the corridor, knowing _he_ was with him," her eyes blazed furiously. "And as you'll remember, I know _firsthand_ the kind of tortures Darth Vader is fond of," tears of anger and delayed shock started to brim in her lower lids.

Luke flinched, shaken out of his lethargy by her bluntness.

But there was no stopping Leia. Unbeknownst to her, she had been needing this catharsis as much as he had. She had her own personal traumas to deal with, and she was dealing with them _right here and now_.

"Then I found out we were being used as a bait to lure you in, so that... sadist could capture you," the tears finally slid down her face. "I saw Han being frozen in carbonite, not knowing if he would live, wishing _I_ could take his place," she slapped her chest once, trying to release the pain she had been bottling up for weeks now.

Luke reached out to her, but Leia put out her hand forbiddingly. His breathing then started to come in short, quick gasps. He was awakening with a vengeance.

"Then I saw him being handed over to a bounty hunter, who took him away to a revolting crime lord holding a years-long grudge. To someone who could be doing _anything_ to him this very moment," Leia was on a roll now and refused to stop, for Luke had to see, had to understand he wasn't to blame for anything. He was a victim, just like all of them. She wiped away her own tears. "I feel anger, and guilt, and hatred, and helplessness; but I can't let those feelings win. I have so much to fight for! For those who're not here anymore, for the ones who suffer, for my friends... for _you_."

Luke sank his head. He couldn't face Leia's eyes. He couldn't face her deep love and concern. He _couldn't_ let her draw the truth out of him, for if she did he would lose her; and if he did... it would kill him.

' _Ben! Yoda! Why didn't you tell me? Why did you lie to me?'_

But only silence answered his call, just like all the other times he had shouted out his pain and despair into the Force.

He squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lips mercilessly.

"Leave me. Please, Leia. Please, leave me!" he implored, moving his head from side to side.

That was more than Leia could take. Lunging forward, she grabbed his chin and forced him to meet her eyes.

"I won't leave you. I _can't_ leave you, don't you understand? It _wasn't_ your fault! You did _nothing_ wrong. You tried to save us, but there was no way you could succeed! You engaged that beast trying to protect us. There's no shame in losing to him! There's _nothing_ to be ashamed of!"

Luke tried to disengage her hand but Leia would have none of that. She cupped his face in both hands, effectively preventing an easy escape from her eyes and her passion.

"What's going on inside you, Luke? Did you have to tap from some dark place deep within to face him? Are you afraid of what you felt? Is that it?" she didn't know where that insight was coming from but the look in his eyes told her that she had hit a nerve. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "No, NO, Luke! Whatever you felt, whatever that monster made you feel, it _wasn't_ you! He's everything you're not, everything you could _never_ be! Don't start doubting the goodness in you now cause you're the purest being I've ever known. You are _nothing_ like him! Vader is..."

"...MY FATHER, LEIA! HE'S MY FATHER!" the truth exploded from the young man's soul like a demon that's exorcized at last. His bloodshot eyes opened wide and bore into hers. "HE'S MY FATHER, DON'T YOU SEE?!"

Leia jumped back as if she had been physically hit by the revelation. What...? Father...? Vader... Luke's father? Luke's _father_?! What was Luke talking about?

"Your... _Father_?! No, h-he's not... It c-can't be true," she stuttered, still holding the young man's contorted face in her hands. "That's impossible!" How could that... _thing_ they'd been fighting all these years engender a child, let alone...? No, it _wasn't_ true, as simple as that. Vader must have been playing mind-games with Luke. There could be no other explanation.

"He * _is*_!" Luke exclaimed. Now that his secret was out in the open he was frantic for Leia to believe him. The notion that she thought he was believing a lie was even worse. "I felt it through the Force! I felt it _in my heart_. I knew it was true the moment he said it," his eyes burned with horror, anguish, and a pain beyond belief.

All of a sudden, Leia's hearing began to fade away. She blinked, trying to clear her head, but the feeling of disconnection only grew stronger.

' _There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you.'_

' _Luke, you have not yet realized your importance. You have only begun to discover your power.'_

' _With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict, and bring order to the galaxy!'_

' _Come with me. It is the only way.'_

Leia shook her head roughly and just like that, everything returned to normal. What...? What had just happened?! She'd heard those words in Vader's voice, as clearly as if he was in the room with them! She had even caught a brief mental glimpse of him, standing on the edge of a gantry, his cape billowing wildly behind him, left hand reaching out.

It was Luke's memory that she was seeing! She was reliving that moment through his eyes! How come...?

"My father, Leia. My father!" Luke cried out one last time, falling apart. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, sobbing hysterically. He felt he had surrendered the last vestiges of his sanity in his confession. "Force help me, what will I do now? How will I be able to resist him next time? PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

Deep in shock, Leia's automatic response was enfolding the trembling young man in her arms and holding him tight. She couldn't hear his panic-stricken words anymore; all she could hear was the noise, the buzzing noise in her ears...

Darth Vader... Luke's father! How could it be? HOW? And what about Anakin Skywalker, dashing young hero, fearless pilot and noble Jedi Knight who had died before Luke was born? The man Luke idolized and worshipped... and loved with every fibre of his being?

"They lied to me, Leia! Everyone lied to me! Ben, uncle Owen, aunt Beru, master Yoda... they all lied to me! My whole life has been a lie and I want to die. I'm losing my mind, Leia! I want to die!"

Leia felt one of his hands grabbing desperately the back of her jacket and almost tearing it. She looked down just as Luke's head moved back a little, and their eyes met.

And Leia knew she would never forget the look in those eyes for as long as she lived.

"They used me... I've been a puppet in their hands and I don't know who I am anymore. I just want to die! Die! Die!" an endless stream of tears rolled down his deadly pale face, and he looked up at her beseechingly, as his last chance at hope and life.

Swallowing the immense lump in her throat, heedless of the tears that ran down her own face, Leia brought one hand around and framed the wet cheek in it. She caressed it with her thumb, uselessly wiping the tears away, for they were immediately replaced by more tears, and more and more...

Neither of them heard the soft whooshing sound of the door opening, and the light, quick steps approaching.

Suddenly, Dr. Senna appeared beside them.

"You need this now, Luke. Rest," she whispered tenderly, injecting something in the side of his neck.

Luke gave a brutal start and hardly had time to turn his head. Unconsciousness was already upon him. He didn't see Leia and Dr. Senna lying him back and covering his thin, emaciated body with the bedspread.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I want to thank you all dear reviewers for your support and encouragement. I'm too obsessive and too personally involved to see my own work objectively, but your warm welcome and your lovely reviews fill my heart with hope that perhaps this isn't as off the mark as it seems to me.

Still, I'm crossing my fingers. Every time I post a new chapter I grow some more white hairs.

Thank you for your time. I'm always honoured.

* * *

"Take this," Dr. Senna offered Leia the bevereage she had prepared.

Pulling herself out of her spinning thoughts, Leia accepted the warm cup and brought it to her lips with shaking hands. She took a small sip and tasted it before swallowing. It had a bittersweet flavour, but not an unpleasant one. She brought the cup down to her lap and stared blankly at the floor.

"I don't know what happened in there, but you did an outstanding job," Senna took a seat right in front of the Princess and gave her a tremulous smile.

Leia felt numb. Dazed. As if something had died inside her. She couldn't bring herself to say a word.

"It is my hope that he will begin to heal now."

Leia's eyes fell closed for a moment.

"I pray you're right, Dr. Senna," she murmured brokenly. "I pray you're right. But I don't know. I just..." a lone tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away hastily. "I just don't know."

"Call me Auren," the older woman whispered kindly. "The hardest part is getting to the root of the problem. It should be easier from this point on."

"It _should_ , Doctor... Auren," Leia said, looking into Dr. Senna's eyes for the first time. "But you can't... You can't possibly know what he's going through, what he's dealing with." Her hands tightened on the cup until her fingers went white. "I don't think I could..."

"Don't underestimate his inner strength. You're also dealing with a great personal trauma, and you managed to use it to help you both," Auren pointed out delicately.

"Did you hear what we said in there?" sheer panic appeared on Leia's already ashen features.

Dr. Senna's eyes opened wide in surprise.

"No, but I could hear your voices when you started shouting. That's when I knew you had finally gotten through to him. I knew what would happen when the walls crumbled, so I went looking for a sedative and walked right in."

Leia heaved a small sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, Auren, but what transpired between Luke and..." she let out a hissing sound, "...and Vader could be of the utmost importance to the Alliance," she lied as she went along, "so the less people who know about it the better."

"I understand." Dr. Senna suspected there was more to it than Leia let on, but she didn't press the issue. The scene she had come across had been hard enough already. The Princess seemed to have aged decades in the last few minutes, and her heart went out to the two youths. The war was taking an immeasurable toll and it would leave permanent scars in both of them.

So much loss, so much horror!

Leia took the final sip of her cup. Her hands were trembling harder now and her laboured breathing told the older woman that she was seconds away from breaking down. She changed seats and wrapped her arm around the quivering shoulders.

"Get some rest now. He will sleep through the night. Tomorrow will be another day."

Leia nodded dejectedly and leaned on the older woman's strength.

It was then, looking down at her hands holding the empty cup and feeling Dr. Senna's comforting arm around her, that she remembered what had struck her about Luke earlier.

"His hand!" she exclaimed, straightening up in a flash.

"What?" Auren asked, removing her arm from Leia's shoulders.

"He's not using his right hand!" Leia's mind quickly travelled back in time, trying to remember the things she had seen Luke do and manipulate since the day after he got his new hand less than a month ago. Incredibly, none of them had involved his right hand.

"He's not?" Dr. Senna's eyes bulged, wondering how could that extremely important detail have gone unnoticed by her. All right, she'd only been seeing him for short periods of time and he hadn't done anything with his hands other than keeping them on his lap or at his sides. But now that she thought about it... the right one had always been out of sight. Inconspicuously, but... He _had_ been keeping his hand subtly hidden from view!

Sweet heavens, what kind of doctor was she? How could she overlook such a thing?

"I bet he's been using that blasted Force to distract us so we wouldn't notice," Leia shook her head, fury tainting her voice.

"He's in denial," Auren had switched instantly into doctor mode. "He's rejecting his hand because it symbolizes his failure to protect himself. Vader defiled him, and his new hand is a constant reminder of what he did to him. Even worse, a reward for his personal desecration."

A keening wail brought Dr. Senna back. Leia had covered her face with her hands and was crying like a small child whose world had ended.

Berating herself for her unthinking callousness, Auren wrapped her arms around the Princess, full of compassion.

"Don't worry. Now that we know what's happening to him, we can _truly_ start helping him. He will recover, you have my word. I won't give up until he's standing on his feet again," she hugged her fiercely. "I promise!"

* * *

' _Ani, I want to have our baby back home on Naboo. We can go to the Lake Country where no one will know. Where we can be safe.'_

' _I came to see if you and the baby are safe.'_

' _He will join us or die, master.'_

' _Don't make me destroy you.'_

' _Luke.'_

' _Father!'_

' _He will need time to recover from... your sweet fatherly attentions.'_

' _Congratulations. You killed him.'_

' _You killed him! YOU KILLED HIM!'_

Vader woke up in his pod once more feeling sicker than he'd ever felt. He was sweating profusely and trembling all over. He panted for breath for half a minute until he found a semblance of control. But he couldn't shake off the horrible feeling that got worse with every passing second.

Something was very **very** wrong with young Skywalker.

With his son.

"Luke..."

The sound of that name on his lips shook him to the core, evoking something he hadn't felt in over twenty years.

No. NO! No attachments! No feelings! He felt nothing for the boy! NOTHING!

' _Father...'_

' _Father!'_

NEVER AGAIN! The child would be his apprentice and together they would destroy the Emperor. Theirs would be a bond of mutual convenience, as it was the way of the Sith.

' _This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life.'_

"NO! I WILL NOT SUCCUMB TO THAT PATHETIC WEAKNESS!"

The Dark Side was peace, and quiet, and silence; not a tumult of terrifying emotions that drowned him in fear. He had only one ambition, and that was to overthrow Palpatine and take his place. How much easier his life had been since his baptism of Fire and Darkness! Learning to let go had been a blessing.

' _Ani, I'm pregnant.'_

' _Tha-that's... T-that's wonderful!'_

' _Come away with me. Help me raise our child!'_

' _Father.'_

' _FATHER!'_

"NOOOOOOO!"

* * *

Leia woke up in her bed feeling exhausted, bone-tired. Her sleep had been anything but restful. Nightmares had plagued her all night - Luke getting sicker and sicker until nothing could be done to save him; Darth Vader taking him away as the young man cried out to her, begging her to help him...

It had been the worst night of her life.

She washed up, got dressed and left her quarters for the mess hall with a growing feeling of foreboding that wouldn't go away and seemed to grow with every step she took.

Abruptly, just as the mess' doors appeared before her, an unknown instinct made her turn about and head for Luke's quarters at a run. When she arrived and the door opened, she was greeted by an empty bed.

Her heart missed a beat.

"Luke, where are you?!" she called, looking around.

The bathroom light was on, and right before she walked inside, just like that, she _knew_.

There, lying senseless face down on the floor, with his short white robe untied and open, was Luke.

"Oh, no. No! Please, no!" Leia whimpered, dropping to her knees and turning him upon his back.

His skin was grey and drenched in sweat. His lips were cracked and blue, his ribcage stuck out almost obscenely, and to add to the horror, she realized that she could count his ribs _one by one_.

It was the vivid _colour_ of the fingertips peeking out of the right sleeve that made her reach out and pull the sleeve back. She jerked back with a scream.

Luke's right hand was purple. The skin was all stretched and about to burst. The entire thing was a swollen mess, and when she touched his face she realized he was burning up with fever.

The next thing she knew she was out of the door, shouting down the corridor and making everybody jump.

"Someone call a doctor! PLEASE. PLEASE! I NEED A DOCTOR RIGHT NOW!"

* * *

Darth Vader walked into the bridge of the Executor like the living embodiment of the angel of death.

On seeing him, Piett's legs wobbled under him and he knew he wouldn't make it alive to the end of the shift.

"Admiral Piett," the voice sounded as cold as an iceberg, as deadly as a blaster shot through the skull.

"Yes, milord," Piett would always wonder how he could sound so composed and calm.

Vader raised a gloved finger and pointed it at him. But instead of a Force-choke, something else happened.

"I want you to bring here every specialist in decryption in the Fleet. I want them all listening to every signal in the galaxy for Skywalker's whereabouts. And someone better come up with something or I will have a new bridge crew by the end of the week. Is that clear, Admiral?"

"Yes, Lord Vader," Piett nodded once and started issuing orders, trying not to think about the black figure who followed his every movement with slight turns of his helmeted head, as if daring him to give him a reason to reconsider his reprieve.

* * *

"It can't be. It just can't be!" Dr. Vilk shook his white-haired head, looking down at his young patient in his small isolation module, with an expression of utter disbelief. "I am seeing it and I still cannot believe it."

Biting her lips, Leia stood at Luke's bedside, sick with worry.

"What's happening to him, doctor?" she asked, looking at 2-1B out of the corner of her eye, as the droid carefully manipulated the doses of saline solution, antibiotics, antipyretics and all the other medicines that were being injected into Luke's bloodstream.

"Something that hasn't happened in centuries - the rejection of an implant," the doctor took the purple, swollen hand in his and manipulated it gently - fingers, palm, wrist. "I'll do my best to save it, but if the infection spreads..."

"You'll have to remove it," Leia finished for him.

The doctor sighed and nodded.

"He's in very bad shape already. Extreme weight loss, PTS, depression... Any of those problems is arguably easy to deal with separately; but together it's..."

"Problematic?" Leia offered.

The doctor looked down at her and met her eyes.

"You could say that," he said at last.

It was a potentially lethal combination and they both knew it. Leia's euphemism didn't fool anyone.

"Double his dose of immunosupressants," Dr. Vilk told 2-1B. "I don't want to take any chances."

Leia's heart skipped a beat.

"But if you do that, won't you be leaving his immune system more vulnerable to infections?"

"Yes," the doctor didn't try to embellish the truth. "But I think we can afford that, if only for a few hours, and see if the swelling starts to go down."

Leia held Dr. Vilk's gaze for a long moment, and ended up nodding in acquiescence. Then, she reached out quietly and took Luke's left hand in her own.

"Don't do this to me, Luke," she said, sitting on the narrow bed beside the fragile body. "Please, you've got to..." she choke on her words. "Don't let him win. Don't let him win!"

* * *

The Princess lost track of time. She spent the following hours whispering encouraging words and making promises of a better, kinder future for them all once they rescued Han and defeated the Empire. She promised they would be the family he deserved and that Luke would never feel alone.

She had just started to doze off when she felt _something_ that shook her out of her light slumber. She opened her eyes and focused them on the young man next to her.

Luke's entire body was shaking from head to foot. His hair was plastered to his scalp and rivulets of sweat rolled down his nose and forehead. She reached out and touched his flushed face with her palm.

His skin radiated heat as if it had been set afire.

"Doctor. Doctor!" she cried out in panic.

Dr. Vilk entered the patient ward in a rush. He checked the pulse on Luke's neck and then checked his eyes, that were beginning to roll back. Right then, Luke's soft tremors increased.

"A febrile seizure," he diagnosed. "I need a nurse here fast!"

The doors opened and two robot nurses quickly rolled into the room.

"Bring here some ice packs. And more electrolites! NOW!" he looked at Leia with a compassionate look. "Let us do our job. I'll inform you when we got him stabilized."

Leia felt as if something was being torn apart inside her as she left the ward.

* * *

Vader was thrown out of his meditative state by a sudden chill that ran down his body.

"What the...?!" he muttered. Next, a vicious onset of chills left him shaken.

He jumped to his feet and started pacing the room like a caged animal, until he had to fumble for the wall and lean on it for support. His breathing was fast and shallow, his heart was racing; even his eyesight and hearing were off.

' _Luke!'_ his mind cried out.

No reply. He couldn't even feel the boy's presence into the Force.

' _Luke! Answer me!'_ he yelled in helpless frustration.

And then... _something_. Muffled, faraway words, like hearing something underwater.

' _Ice! I need more ice!'_

' _The infection is spreading.'_

' _Hold on, young man. Come on!'_

Vader shook himself out of his involuntary trance, gasping for breath.

His son... His son was gravelly ill.

Luke... Luke...

His hand reached out blindly, looking for something to hold on to. When it did, his fingers closed around it and he squeezed. And squeezed, and squeezed... until he heard a loud cracking sound.

* * *

Leia paced back and forth, twisting her hands. She knew there was nothing she could do, and she would be of no help to Luke if she exhausted herself unnecessarily, but she couldn't help it.

Dr. Senna watched her with a look of profound sympathy. She deeply regretted not being able to help the young woman; but above all, she hated the gut feeling that her diagnosis had come too late to be of any use.

Before she could go any further in her thoughts, the doors opened and Dr. Vilk came out. Leia rushed to him with a pleading look.

"He's stable... for the moment," he said in an attempt to bring some peace to the distraught Princess.

Leia breathed a short sigh of relief, preparing herself for what was coming. For she knew that what was coming wouldn't be good.

"The infection is spreading," the doctor confirmed with a sad look.

"Then, the immunosupressants you prescribed didn't work."

"Quite the contrary, they did their job," Dr. Vilk amended her words. "But as a result, his immune system is so debilitated that it can no longer maintain its function of controlling infections."

Leia shook her head. This was worse than her worst nightmare.

"The infection is moving down his wrist now. When it reaches full organic tissue..."

Leia closed her eyes and nodded in understanding.

"A hand is always replaceable," Vilk soothed her.

"But how could he reject his hand in the first place, doctor?" Leia needed answers desperately.

It was Dr. Vilk's turn to sigh despairingly.

"I wish I knew. It's a medical impossibility, pure and simple. The inner prosthesis and microgears are made of titanium and biodegradable materials, so there is _zero_ possibility of rejection," he explained passionately. "The outermost layers are made of skin and keratin that are cultured and harvested from the patient's own skin and fingernails. His hand should be as much a part of him as the rest of his arm by now," he looked at Leia in complete bewilderment. "Nothing of what's happening to him makes any sense."

Leia remained silent for a minute, her gaze lost into the distance.

"Mind over matter," she murmured too low for anyone to hear.

"I beg your pardon?" Dr. Vilk asked.

"It's all right," Leia straightened up. "What now?"

"I prescribed antibiotics of broad spectrum. I'm afraid we can only wait and see," Dr. Vilk already knew that levelling with the Princess was the only way to go, for she would accept no less than the truth, as ugly as it was, and he admired her for that.

There was a lot to admire in that petite young woman.

"I want to be with him," Leia's determination was unshakeable.

"I'll have the nurses get everything ready," Vilk made a pause. "You do know it will take days at the very least, don't you?"

The weary, heartbroken brown eyes met his with an unfathomable look.

"For as long as it takes, doctor. For as long as it takes," her unwavering resolve left no room for discussion.

* * *

Properly sterilized once more, Leia sat at Luke's bedside. Reaching out cautiously, she took the good, lifeless hand in her own and began to stroke it endlessly. Her tearing eyes studied the thin, frail body, seeing the pain and the struggle in the cadaverous features.

"Fight, Luke. Fight! Think about all the people who love you. None of us care about who you are and where you come from," she reminded him sincerely. "We're not defined by our ancestry, we're defined by our values and our actions," she bit her lower lip and looked down. "I wish... I wish I could get inside your head and make you understand."

She placed the palm of one hand on his heart.

"You're always talking about Destiny, about meeting your true Destiny and fulfilling it. Well, I happen to *know* that you have a great Destiny to fulfil, and it's _**not**_ dying here, you hear me?"

She waited a minute for her words to sink in, and smiled in fond remembrance.

"Remember when we first met?" she straightened her back exuberantly. "'I'm Luke Skywalker, I'm here to rescue you!'" she shook her head in amusement. "Such innocence, such idealism!" she looked down and squeezed the hand in her own. "I didn't know it at the time but... since that day, you really became my knight in white armour - relieving me of the burden of command and the stress of being responsible for so many lives. You always made me laugh, you were always there for me with your caring blue eyes and your understanding smile."

All of a sudden, she found herself in a state of introspection she'd never reached before; and for the first time she faced the emotions that had been a mass of confusion until then.

"For years, I couldn't make up my mind about my feelings for you. You're so beautiful, so sweet and kind… and I definitely had a crush on you. It was so natural for me to love you... almost as if I had no choice. And yet, something wasn't quite right," she smiled to herself. "I loved Han too because he's your polar opposite in so many ways. All right, yes, you also have a lot in common – your commitment, your fierce sense of loyalty... It took me a while to admit it to myself. Han cared, Han loved; but his cynical, harsh exterior put me off. And I guess I was afraid to give myself to this... passion. To _any_ passion, actually, because our life is hard enough already." She made a pause, examining her feelings more deeply. "My love for Han could be potentially dangerous and disruptive, but my love for you... it brought me so much peace..."

Tears started to show in her eyes.

"My knight in shining armour. My rescuer," she blinked them back. "Did I ever thank you for it? You are... You're a part of my soul, Luke. You're in my blood," she cocked her head to one side at that, as if listening to some inner voice. "Maybe that's how I knew where to find you on Bespin? Maybe that's why I seem to know what's going on inside you? Even see through your eyes?"

Something in her exploded.

"I love you! Don't leave me, Luke! Please, don't leave me!" she sobbed, pressing her forehead to the back of his hand.

* * *

A bright, hot desert landscape. Two suns. And a blond, blue-eyed little boy staring at the sunset with tears streaming down his angelic, perfect face.

' _Daddy, where are you? I need you. I need you so much!'_

Leia woke up with a start. She had fallen asleep on Luke's bed, holding onto his hand. She sat up slowly, trying to shake off the powerful feelings her short dream had stirred.

On the other side of Luke's bed, Dr. Vilk was finishing his examination with a look of utter defeat on his face.

"What?" she asked, raising her eyes to him, dreading – but also knowing – what he was going to say.

Dr. Vilk took Luke's right hand in his own and showed it to Leia.

The hand was twice its normal size, dark purple in colour, and what was worse, the swelling had spread past the wrist.

"Necrosis," the word sounded like a physical blow to the guts. "We have to amputate."

Leia covered her eyes with her hand. The time had come.

Maybe it would be for the best - she rationalized, trying to look for a glimmer of hope. Maybe once his hand was gone, Luke would begin to recover psychologically. Maybe one day he'd feel strong enough to accept a new hand and she would have her beautiful, smiling white knight back.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded in silence.

* * *

Two days. Two more days had passed and still no sightings, no transmissions, _nothing_.

Vader stood by the huge windows like a stone carved statue, staring into space, reaching for The Presence, calling out, and receiving no reply.

The boy wasn't dead. He didn't know how he knew it, he just did. He was unconscious, holding on to life by a thread, but he was alive. He figured that if the child was gone, something would feel different. _He_ would feel different. After all, Luke Skywalker was a part of him. A part of _her_. The sum of both of them. Small, strong and brave like his mother, and extraordinarily strong in the Force... like his father.

' _Son, come with me.'_

' _I'll never join you!'_

' _It is the only way.'_

' _Father.'_

' _Luke.'_

Bootsteps approached him from behind. How strange – he mused – that just by the sound he could tell to whom they belonged.

"Admiral," he said neutrally.

"Nothing today either, milord," was the answer to his unvoiced question.

"Keep looking," he ordered in the same monotone.

"Yes, sir," the bootsteps began to retreat.

"Admiral Piett."

"Yes, Lord Vader?"

"Only three days remain. Remember that," the cold, dispassionate statement of a fact.

He felt the change in the air surrounding them. The acrid, disgusting stench of fear.

"Yes, milord," was the slightly quivering reply, almost like a croak.

And the bootsteps retreated again.

Vader's eyes turned anew to the blackness of the vast universe before him.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	3. Chapter 3

"And now?" Leia asked Dr. Senna, who had been glad to keep her company while they waited for the operation to end.

"I'll start working with him as soon as he's well enough," she assured her.

Leia nodded and stared down at her hands on her lap, looking like a lost little girl.

Auren bit her lower lip, not wanting to bring more anguish to the young woman's already precarious state of mind. But she _needed_ to say it. She had failed as a doctor and an apology was in order. More than that. It was _owed_.

"I'm sorry my diagnosis came too late to be of any help."

"No!" Leia turned her head and met her eyes with her intense brown depths. "You did everything you could with what little he gave you to work with. I'll never hold you responsible for what's happening. It's... no one's fault really," her eyes hardened suddenly and she looked away. "Only _his_ ," she hissed, grinding her teeth.

Auren nodded assent, taking a mental note to try and help the Princess to manage her anger in a healthier, more constructive way. Her hatred for Vader was understandable,but it could easily become an obsession, an illness that would devour her from within. In the meantime, she would be at her side like a true and loyal friend.

For one of the top leaders of the Alliance, Leia was surprisingly alone. She suspected that in her position she couldn't afford to trust many people, so her closest circle had to consist of a very few chosen ones. In the end, all of them were expendable for the greater good, so creating strong emotional bonds with many people only to see them die, had to be unbearable. She could understand that, for that was exactly what had ended up happening. Her entire family on Alderaan first, and now... one by one...

She reached out and took hold of her hand, stunned by her own actions.

"Keep the faith. Everything'll turn out for the best," she promised ilogically.

Leia came back from whatever dark place she'd lost herself in, and smiled sadly. She reached out and placed her own hand on top of hers.

"Thank you, Auren. I _really_ need that," her eyes reddened for an instant, but she quickly pulled herself together.

Right then, the doors opened and Dr. Vilk came out with a satisfied expression on his face.

Leia and Auren stood up at once. Leia quickly approached the doctor, but Auren stayed back respectfully.

When she realized that she was standing in front of the doctor alone, Leia looked behind her and smiled at the older woman's thoughtful gesture. She reached out her arm to her.

"Come, Auren. You need to know too," she simply said.

Deeply touched, Auren walked up to Leia with slow, shy steps. The look in Luke's eyes would be forever imprinted upon her soul. Shetruly needed to know how the young man was.

"Doctor?" Leia asked, turning to the physician.

Vilk smiled.

"Everything went fine. We removed his hand and had nanorobots get rid of the necrotic issue. We're administering antibiotics and mild painkillers. He should start getting better sooner than later."

Leia's heart missed a beat inexplicably.

"You weren't too late, were you?"

Dr. Vilk's eyes opened wider.

"Not at all. With his hand gone, there's nothing to be afraid of; other than his extremely debilitated state. But I'm counting on him to fight and beat this."

Leia met Auren's eyes, and both of them shared the same thought.

It wouldn't be that easy. Not by a long shot.

* * *

Leia placed herself at Luke's bedside as soon as he was moved to a sterile room. His immune system still had to recover from the immunosupressants he'd been given, and until it did, he had to be kept in isolation.

The young man was too weak to wake up, and the few times he did he just mumbled some unintelligible words, fought to keep his eyes open and promptly fell asleep again.

Leia didn't move from his bedside, alternating gentle caresses and the retelling of some of their adventures, in the hopes of keeping him anchored to the present. To the _love_.

Hours passed thus until, exhausted, she fell asleep, holding his hand.

' _I wish I'd known him.'_

' _How did my father die?'_

" _I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my father.'_

' _Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.'_

' _He told me enough! He told me_ _ **you**_ _killed him!'_

' _No, *I* am your father.'_

' _They used me... I've been a puppet in their hands and I don't know who I am anymore.'_

' _Come with me, it is the only way.'_

' _How will I be able to resist him next time?'_

' _I'm losing my mind, Leia! I want to die!'_

Leia woke up, terrified and breathless, still holding on to Luke's hand. She looked around frenetically, reassuring herself of the reality of her surroundings. They were in the isolation ward. Safe. There was nothing to fear.

Then why was she covered in sweat?

"Doctor! Doctor Vilk!" she cried out agitatedly, unable to help herself.

A few seconds later the doors opened and Dr. Vilk entered in a hurry.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Is he...?" Leia swallowed the lump in her throat, "is he all right?"

Vilk studied Luke's vitals in the monitors and made a quick examination of his physical responses.

"Yes, he's fine," he said at last. "No change in his condition."

"Are you sure?" Leia insisted apprehensively.

"I _am_ sure," Vilk nodded emphatically. "Why?"

Leia tried to make sense of her feelings. Her teeth were chattering and she couldn't figure out why.

"I-I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head nonplussed.

The doctor put his hand on her shoulder kindly.

"We've had a couple setbacks, but you shouldn't start expecting the worst. He needs to feel your confidence. Your emotional support is crucial now," he advised wisely.

Leia took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. She looked down and nodded in acceptance of his words.

"I... I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"You must take care of yourself as well," Dr. Vilk said in a no-nonsense voice. "His full recovery will take time and you won't help him if you push yourself to your breaking point."

Leia looked away.

"I know, but I have this feeling that... it's like..."

"Like waiting for the other shoe to drop?" Vilk finished her thought for her.

"Yes," Leia stared at him in surprise.

Vilk smiled softly.

"It's normal to feel like that, especially after all the things that have already gone wrong," he nodded to her. "But he's young and healthy. That works in his favour. Give him time and he'll bounce back, you'll see."

Leia turned her eyes to Luke, who appeared to sleep soundly _and_ peacefully, for once.

"I'll try," she didn't move her eyes off of him. "I _will_ try."

* * *

More hours passed and Leia didn't move from Luke's side. She even ate in the same room. Dr. Senna visited them a couple times in the evening, joining Dr. Vilk in trying to convince the young woman to retire for a while and get some sleep. Leia refused. She only agreed to have an extra bed brought into the room so she could sleep next to Luke.

Luke's condition remained unchanged and finally allowing herself a small ray of hope, Leia went to bed.

"I can't wait to see those beautiful eyes looking at me again," she reached out and brushed his hand across their beds. "Don't let me down."

Minutes later, she was fast asleep.

' _You have learned much, young one.'_

' _You'll find I'm full of surprises!'_

' _Your destiny lies with me, Skywalker. Obi-Wan knew this to be true.'_

' _No!'_

' _Luke, you can destroy the Emperor, he has foreseen this. It is your destiny. Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy as Father and Son.'_

' _...MY FATHER, LEIA! HE'S MY FATHER!'_

' _Son, come with me.'_

' _They lied to me, Leia! Everyone lied to me!'_

' _My whole life has been a lie and I want to die.'_

' _I want to die!'_

' _DIE!'_

Leia's eyes popped open. Immediately, she turned on her bed and set her eyes on the young man next to her.

Luke was sleeping soundly. His chest moved slowly up and down as he breathed. He didn't seem to have moved since she'd last seen him last night.

Restless, she got out of bed and stood by his side. Something wasn't quite right, she could feel it.

Inevitably, her eyes strayed to his right arm. She didn't want to look, she couldn't bring herself to look, but she knew she had to. And with a deep intake of breath, she did.

The sight of the stump at the end of his forearm filled her eyes with tears. Somehow, looking at it now was more shocking, more awful than the first time she'd seen it in the Falcon. The brutality of it; the savage cruelty the amputation conveyed, slashed at her heart. There were just no words.

His own father.

Leia found herself standing on the other side of the bed, reaching out to the swollen arm.

To see someone so strong and athletic, so full of life, reduced to this state of complete defencelessness was beyond heartbreaking.

"Please..." she whispered, she _pleaded_ , "please..." her fingers made contact with the smooth skin.

Hot. It was hot. _Too_ hot.

With a jolt, Leia bent down and studied the arm more closely. Little round red points covered the hot and swollen forearm, and she just _knew_.

With a dreadful calm, she reached over to the intercom.

"Dr. Vilk," she called, with no hint of emotion in her voice. Her arm dropped to her side limply.

The door opened and Vilk entered, followed by a robot nurse.

"Good morning," he greeted Leia with a cheerful grin. "Did our patient sleep well?"

Leia raised her eyes to him wordlessly, and Vilk's blood went cold. He looked down at Luke and paled visibly. He quickly touched his forearm, felt it up and down and then examined him thoroughly.

Shutting herself off from the scene in stoic resignation, Leia stared at the floor.

"What is it?" she asked when the examination was finished.

"Septic thromboembolism," Vilk shook his head. "He's got all the symptoms – fever, edema, petechiae..." a long silence ensued. "I... I just don't... This is..."

"Incredible," Leia muttered drily.

Vilk blinked, looking down at the frail young man, trying to understand what in blazes was happening. His medical training soon took over. "Give him anticoagulants and more antibiotics," he ordered the nurse in a gravelly voice. After that, he turned to Leia and put out his hand. "Come with me."

Leia accompanied him out of the room, feeling strangely detached from the here and now, from her own feelings and emotions. It was as if she was witnessing the moment from outside herself.

Vilk faced Leia.

"I cannot explain this. I simply _cannot_ ," he shrugged in disbelief.

"I can," Leia said, gazing into his eyes. "He wants to go," her eyes flashed with passion. "But I'll be damned if I'm going to let him!" Clenching her fists, she looked up at the tall man in front of her. "What are we facing now?" she questioned without preamble.

Dr. Vilk stared agape at the petite woman, taken aback by her fiery tenacity.

"An infected blood clot," he explained, recovering swiftly. "It's reducing the blood flow below the elbow."

"Can't you take it out or destroy it with nanorobots?" she asked.

"I'm trying to shrink it first, that's why I prescribed an anticoagulant," he answered patiently. "And the antibiotics are meant to kill off the infection that's causing the clot, otherwise..."

"He'll keep on producing clots over and over," Leia understood.

Vilk nodded.

"They could spread the infection to other organs, and then we'd be dealing with generalized septicaemia."

"Come on, doctor Vilk," Leia exploded, "we're dealing with it already. You diagnosed him with sepsis two minutes ago."

Vilk started.

"Well... y-yes, but I meant a full-blown infection. So far, it seems contained in the right forearm," it was unbelievable how such a young woman could reduce a competent doctor, old enough to be her father, to a mass of stuttering justification.

Leia looked down and heaved a long, weary sigh.

"I'm sorry, doctor. I didn't mean to snap at you."

Compassion appeared on the older features.

"It's just that..."

"I know. It's all right," Vilk smiled softly.

The tired brown eyes raised to his.

"So, it's back to waiting, isn't it?"

Vilk reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

"It's _always_ about waiting... And hoping."

Leia made a sad grimace and nodded.

"I'm staying with him," she followed Vilk to the sterilization room. "I need him to know he's not alone and..." she bit her lips to hold back the burst of emotion.

"I will allow you to be with him for as long as you want," Vilk said. "But you *will* eat three meals a day and keep yourself healthy, is that understood?" he could also be inflexible for his patients and their families' sakes.

Leia accepted his stipulation with a nod.

* * *

The hours passed painstakingly slowly. Leia stayed by Luke's side, who didn't open his eyes, not once. Dr. Vilk or the nurses would drop by to either check on his progress or adjust his medication.

Leia forced herself to eat, but the long days and the ever growing concern were taking their toll on her.

Dr. Senna paid them a visit in the early evening and Leia greeted her with a weary smile.

"How are you?" she asked the Princess, sitting in front of her after squeezing Luke's inert hand affectionately in passing.

"I'm holding on," Leia replied without taking her eyes off the unresponsive man in the bed. "And I'm not giving up on him," she murmured to herself, setting her jaw.

Auren could see the struggle in Leia's stance and she felt helpless. But there was nothing anyone could do. It was up to Luke to fight and survive.

"But I'm afraid he's given up on himself," the words came out like a death omen.

"Don't think like that. There's _always_ hope," Auren refused to let Leia give in to pessimism.

"Auren, I _know_!" Leia's eyes turned to the older woman, full of grief and chilling certainty. "I can feel it. I felt it in him... and _through_ him," she confessed, too tired to keep quiet. And at this point, she wasn't sure she _wanted_ to keep quiet.

"What do you mean?" Auren straightened in her seat on hearing that.

Leia considered for a moment to obfuscate and keep the truth of what was happening to herself, but something inside her needed desperately to find a shoulder to lean on, and Dr. Senna's caring eyes killed all resistance.

"I..." she began, not knowing where to start. "I've always had a special bond with Luke. There's something about him I can't explain. I... I just feel so _close_ to him sometimes... Almost as if he was a physical part of me," her eyes turned to Auren, looking for a gesture of support and understanding.

Auren nodded with a smile. She had seen the power of that bond with her own eyes.

Leia gnawed at her lip for a minute.

"But something's... changed," she said at last.

"Changed how?"

Leia's eyes skittered nervously across the room until they settled on the sleeping form. A strange peace settled in her soul.

"When we were escaping from Bespin in the Falcon, I felt..." she shook her head, "I don't know how to describe it... Like an inner voice that sounded like Luke... Calling my name... begging... And just like that, I knew we had to go back for him," she met Auren's eyes and spoke vehemently. "I even *knew* where to find him!"

Vividly interested, Auren nodded encouragingly, inviting Leia to go on.

"He was hanging from a weather vane, about to fall. We saved him in the nick of time," Leia's relief was palpable, even though she was merely retelling the story. But then, her features darkened. "I brushed aside that incident until... until I started having these weird feelings and sensations."

"Can you elaborate?" Auren asked.

Leia interlaced her fingers, searching for the right words.

"Somehow, I can tell when something's wrong with him. I have this... urge to seek him out... It first happened the morning I found him on the floor in his bathroom. I suddenly found myself running to his quarters not knowing why. And the day before that..." she squirmed anxiously. "When he was telling me about his duel with Vader... All at once I was seeing it in my mind."

" _Seeing_ it?" Auren's eyes opened wide at that.

"Yes," Leia's gaze unfocused as she relived the instant she realized she was _seeing_ the scene as Luke was telling it. "I could see Vader standing there, reaching out his hand, his cape billowing wildly in the wind," she shook her head, casting the image away as if it would burn her brain. "I could hear their conversation inside my head. Everything that Luke was telling me... and even _more_."

The long pause brought Leia back to the present.

"It's not my imagination, Auren! I know it's not!" she exclaimed, focusing all her senses on the other woman.

"Easy, easy," Auren squeezed Leia's hands reassuringly. "I've always liked to keep an open mind, and I know there's more to life than what our five senses can... perceive. The bonds between some people are too strong to be limited by our physical bodies. Parents and children, lovers, close friends... Sometimes, their connection appears to be as much of the body as of the soul. I've heard of such cases, and I _do_ believe it's real. Feelings, premonitions... even dreams..."

Leia's stiffening at her last word had Auren's ears pricking up.

"What is it?" she whispered intimately, trying to get her to open up.

Leia's reticence was plain to see but in the end, her need to share what she'd had to keep secret won out.

"I've also had dreams the last two, three days," she admitted reluctantly.

"About Luke?"

Leia nodded, turning her gaze to the sleeping young man.

"What kind of dreams? The ones that feel like premonitions or...?" Auren asked.

"No," Leia's eyes sought hers again. "I dreamed of him as a little boy, looking into the sunset on his home planet... crying," her heart ached with the memory of the dream she would never forget.

Auren winced in pain at the mental image the dream evoked in her.

"What else?" she asked in a thick voice.

Leia didn't know how to tell Auren about those other dreams without revealing the truth about Luke and Vader's connection. She squirmed on her seat again, thinking fast.

"Since that first dream, I've only had nightmares about... about Luke and Vader," she continued tentatively. "About what happened after that... beast mutilated him."

"Recurring nightmares?" Auren edged closer.

Leia shook her head.

"More like... like the new one was the natural progression of the one before."

Auren nodded.

"The way Vader tempted him, the things he said, the things Luke said..." Leia's eyes filled with tears. "I understand much better now, and I think I know why Luke is giving up. Vader found his dearest, deepest longing and tried to use it for evil."

"Oh, poor child!" Auren couldn't help herself.

Leia turned inwards, trying to make sense of the feelings boiling within her.

"Luke fears to give in to that temptation. He chose to die before yielding to it, and now that he survived he fears that temptation even more. It's like... like a siren call, his sweetest dream come alive."

There was more to those dreams than that. Leia knew that Auren knew it, and Auren knew that Leia was aware of that fact that she knew. But neither dared to face the bantha in the room.

With a poignant smile, Auren squeezed Leia's hands one last time.

"Whenever you're ready," she simply said, beginning to rise.

"It's Vader," Leia blurted out without thinking.

"What about him?" Auren sat down again oh-so-slowly.

"I'm not sure," Leia rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, angry at herself for what she was about to say. "Through those dreams... It's as if I was having access to his... inner workings, so to speak. I don't know what's going on inside him and I don't want to know; but his words... what he said... There's more to him than it seems," she gave up trying to understand. "I'm sorry I can't be any more specific. I don't know what I'm trying to say here."

"It's all right. You'll figure it out," Auren smiled softly.

There was a long, slightly uncomfortable pause, and Auren decided to stop pushing. Leia was very vulnerable and her prodding could do more harm than good. To her eternal shame, she had to admit that she'd allowed herself to become too emotionally involved with those two youths, and she was starting to lose her objectivity.

She'd been taught by her older and wiser mentors that all psychiatrists one day face the case that makes them cross the line and become personally involved. Apparently, she was facing _that one case_ after almost 20 years of impeccably professional career.

She couldn't change the way she felt, but she _could_ be the professional they needed her to be and they counted on. She nodded to herself and steeling her feelings, she rose to her feet.

"If this was a 'normal' case..." Leia began in a detached monotone, staring at the floor unblinkingly, "...and we weren't the people we are..." she raised her dark eyes to hers, "...what would you recommend?"

Taking a deep breath, Auren called upon her two decades of experience.

"The standard approach would be to have the two parties in conflict meet and sort out their differences on their own." She arched one eyebrow ironically. "But we're talking about 'normal' conflicts, if such a term even exists, which I doubt," she informed the suddenly distant Princess.

Leia was looking straight ahead, eyes glazed over. A few moments later, she snorted and nodded despondently.

* * *

' _Daddy, where are you? I need you.'_

' _Whatever happens, I'm glad to be here with you. Where I belong.'_

' _I want to give our baby a safe galaxy to live in, Padme.'_

' _I want to become a Jedi like my father.'_

' _Son, come with me.'_

' _I want to die!'_

' _Luke.'_

' _I need you so much!'_

' _Stay, STAY! Please!'_

' _DIE!'_

Vader woke up once more in his pod, the feeling of panic so great that it constricted his throat. He jumped to his feet with a snarl and started pacing his quarters once more.

"I will _not_ lose him. I will *NOT* lose him too, YOU HEAR ME?! YOU HEAR ME?! NEVER! NEVER AGAIN!" he shouted out, hearing the echo of his futile outburst fall on deaf ears.

Enraged, breathless, heart pounding like a drum in his ribcage, the Sith Lord became reacquainted with feelings he had left behind decades ago.

Hopelessness. Despair.

Horror.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Chapter 4

"Why isn't he waking up?" Leia asked Dr. Vilk, who'd come to check on Luke for the last time in the day.

"It _is_ strange," Vilk agreed. "But it's not a bad sign. He needs every bit of strength he can muster to fight the infection, and sleeping it off is a good strategy. But if his condition remains unchanged tomorrow..." he worried at his lips, "...we'll see."

"His condition is not worsening, is it?" Leia asked uneasily, unconsciously stroking the inert hand.

Vilk shook his head.

"It's stable."

 _'For now,'_ an inner voice murmured inside Leia's head.

Dr. Vilk studied Leia's expression, almost as if he could read her mind.

"I'll come back first thing in the morning," he told the Princess. "Get some sleep now and keep the faith. No news is good news."

Leia nodded assent, and after the doctor squeezed her shoulder kindly and left, she got ready for bed.

* * *

 _'This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life.'_

 _'Why couldn't I save her?'_

 _'I will even learn to stop people from dying!'_

 _'I love you, and I love our baby. I will love you both forever.'_

 _'I promise you.'_

 _'LIAR!'_

 _'I HATE YOU!'_

 _'We have a new enemy. The young rebel who destroyed the Death Star.'_

 _'He's just a boy. Obi-Wan can no longer help him.'_

 _'The son of Skywalker must not become a Jedi.'_

 _'If he could be turned, he would become a powerful ally.'_

 _'I am your father.'_

 _'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO!'_

 _'Son, come with me.'_

 _'Everyone lied to me!'_

 _'I came to see if you and the baby are safe.'_

 _'I won't lose you.'_

 _'Daddy, where are you? I need you!'_

 _'Luke! Answer me!'_

 _'I need you so much!'_

 _'I love you, and I love our baby.'_

 _'My whole life has been a lie and I want to die.'_

 _'NO!'_

 _'DIE!'_

 _'I will love you both forever.'_

 _'Forever.'_

 _'FOREVER.'_

Leia jolted and jumped out of bed before she was even awake enough to understand what she was doing. Trembling and breathing harshly, she looked around until she remembered where she was. Automatically, she turned her head and looked down at the broken young man in the sterilized bed.

Big, blue, lifeless and infinitely loving eyes were looking up at her, following her every movement.

"Hey!" she smiled enthusiastically, rushing up to his side. "Look who's here!" She took hold of the sheet and blanket that covered him up to mid-chest, and tucked him in more snugly. "How are you feeling?"

Luke let out a tired and oddly peaceful smile. He stared at Leia with quiet, unthreatening intensity, as if engraving her image in his mind.

Leia tipped her head to one side, returning his staring curiously. Until, for some reason, she began to feel a bit unnerved.

"You could make a girl blush, looking at her like that, you know?" she teased him timidly.

His smile widened with a bittersweet sadness that tore at her heart, and then, she saw the crystal tear sliding down the corner of his eye and falling on the pillow.

"Shhhh, no," she cooed to him, wiping the tear track away delicately. "Don't cry, don't cry," she gave him a tremulous smile. "It's not your fault, Luke. None of this is your fault!" she assured him with all the passion in her being. "Don't give up now. Please, don't let him win!"

His lips moved as if in slow motion.

"H-He... He's..." he breathed with evident effort. "He's... already... already won," he gasped out painfully.

"No! He'll win only if you let him! I promise you no one will ever know. I swear it!" Leia made the most sacred vow of her life.

Luke shook his head weakly.

"I know you, Luke," Leia insisted with everything she had. "You could never be like him. I know what's in your heart. No matter how great the temptation, your soul is pure. Nothing could _ever_ corrupt you! Don't ever fear that!"

The tears returned in full force.

"You... don't... understand," Luke croaked throatily. His breathing was coming in short, heavy gasps. "We are... in... in grave danger."

"W-What do you mean?" Leia asked, paling in foreboding.

The sunken eyes stared at her, begging forgiveness.

"He... touched my mind when we... we..." his lungs took an agonic breath, "we were... in the Falcon."

Shocked at the revelation, Leia swallowed hard.

"I've been trying... to... to block him out since then," beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and brow. "I can't... let my guard... down or... he could... could find out our l-" he fought for breath, "location... through me."

The Princess was rendered speechless by the unthinkable piece of news that changed everything.

"I could... betray..." Luke's eyes began to redden in his attempt to explain himself, "betray us all. I'm... endangering the Al- Alliance, Leia," his pouting gesture reminded the young woman of a terrified little boy, devastated by a transgression that could cost them all dearly.

Leia opened her mouth, but no sound came out of it. She was downright petrified.

A little wail escaped the broken body.

"Force! I can't... take this anymore. Please... PLEASE!" he implored, turning his eyes to the ceiling. Rivulets of tears ran down his face in inconsolable grief and shame.

His anguished cry shook Leia out of her paralysis.

"Oh, Luke. My Luke!" she moaned, reaching out to touch the side of his face tenderly.

Luke's eyes rolled back and his body started to shake.

The Princess gasped out in horror the moment she touched him.

He was burning, _burning_ with fever!

"Luke! LUKE!" she cried out, losing all sense of composure. "LUKE, NO! STAY! STAY WITH ME, PLEASE!" she screamed, knowing in her deepest core that he was giving up for good.

And then, he started to convulse.

"LUKE. LUKE!" she hit the intercom with her fist while trying to restrain him with her other hand. "DOCTOR! DOCTOR VILK! DOCTOR VILK!"

Never did three seconds feel so long, but at last, the doors opened and Dr. Vilk ran into the room, followed by three nurses.

Before he reached them, Vilk was already muttering to himself.

"No, no, no, no, young man. Don't do this to me. No, no, no, no..."

One look was enough. He started shouting at the nurses while holding Luke down with both arms.

"Give him antipyretics, anti-inflammatories. The highest doses he can tolerate. NOW!"

Leia stepped back and covered her face with her hands, trembling from head to foot. This couldn't be happening. Couldn't be happening. COULDN'T BE HAPPENING!

"He's not responding, doctor," a nurse reported seconds later, with the same intonation as if she was reporting an ingrown toenail.

"Ice! Bring here all the ice packs available! Quick!" Vilk ordered, moving back a little and bumping into Leia. "Please, go!" he asked her gently but firmly.

"NO! I want to stay with him! I NEED TO STAY WITH HIM!" she cried out, bordering on hysteria.

Two nurses bypassed her as they left, looking for the ice.

"Please, your highness, don't make things more difficult," Vilk asked. "Let us do our job. Leave now!" he ordered unceremoniously. "I said NOW!" he yelled, losing his patience for the first time.

Turning about, Leia ran from the room.

"And two cooling blankets!" were the last words she heard before the doors closed after her.

* * *

Half an hour had passed, and Dr. Vilk was still inside the sterilized room. The robot nurses rolled in and out every few minutes, bringing equipment and medication on the double.

Leia was sitting in the couch in the adjacent room, totally oblivious to her surroundings, almost in a catatonic state. Beside her, holding her hand in unwavering support, was Dr. Senna.

Auren suspected the Princess was convinced this was the end, and although she'd rather hope for the best, deep down she acknowledged the fact that things looked grim.

More minutes passed until, with a muted sound, the doors opened and an exhausted Doctor Vilk emerged, dragging his feet along like an old man.

Leia sprang from the couch on hearing the sound of the opening doors, and Auren followed her, wondering how she had known without looking that it was Vilk this time.

No one spoke for a few seconds. They just studied one another, afraid of being the first to break the silence.

"He's alive," Vilk finally said, shaking his head, "but..."

"How long?" Leia asked with chilling calmness. Auren looked at her with a start.

Vilk met her eyes with an apologetic, defeated expression.

"48 hours - 72 at most. The infection has spread to several organs. Lungs, liver... and now his kidneys are beginning to fail."

Leia was no doctor, but she knew enough to understand that when kidney failure set in, then it was over. Her jaw began to quiver.

"Is he in pain, doctor?" she asked in the tiniest voice.

"No," Vilk replied kindly. "And he won't be, I promise you that," he squeezed the young woman's shoulder almost paternally. She looked so small, so alone... He would give anything to spare her this. "He's connected to several machines that are keeping his organs working. The fever is still very high, and we're using cooling blankets."

Leia stood still, her gaze lost into the distance.

"The nurses are getting everything ready. You'll be able to enter very soon," Vilk reassured her.

Leia didn't say a word. She didn't even seem to be there anymore.

Vilk looked at Dr. Senna, asking for help.

Auren wrapped her arm around Leia's shoulders and held her close. Leia blinked a couple times and the tears ran down her cheeks for the first time.

"Your highness..." Vilk had to say it, it was his duty as a doctor, but it broke his heart to even _think_ of it. "...if at some point you think it would be best for him to... If you think he would prefer to not prolong this situation needlessly..."

"Thank you, doctor," Leia spared him having to say the words. "I'll let you know my decision," she bit her lower lip, almost breaking the skin.

Senna and Vilk shared a quick look of understanding. Auren reached out and wiped Leia's tears away with trembling fingers.

Just then, the nurses exited the room.

"You can get in now," Vilk told her softly. "I'll see to it that you're not disturbed more than strictly necessary."

Leia took a shuddering breath and, summoning her strength somehow, she broke away from Auren's embrace and took a couple steps forward. Then, she stopped and half-turned hesitatingly.

"Would you walk in with me, Auren?" she asked the older woman. "I... I don't want to be alone right now."

"Of course," Auren nodded, walking up to her.

Vilk watched them enter the room. The doors closed behind them and all of a sudden, everything was silence.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to the empty room before walking away.

* * *

The image the two women encountered upon entering was unmerciful, ruthless. Luke's bed was surrounded by machines that emitted low-pitched noises and hisses as they pumped him full of the nutrients he needed, and kept his organs working at the same time.

But the most shocking image of all was the barely human body in the bed, dwarfed by the machinery and devoured by illness. The cooling blankets reached his collarbones, showing he wore no clothes underneath.

Leia held back a cry when she was close enough to see his face. She covered her mouth with her hand and let out a muffled wail.

His nose, cheekbones, forehead and chin stuck out so sharply that it was gruesome. He was skin and bones. Pale, dry skin, consumed from within.

Auren's eyes filled with tears at the sight, and her heart ached with compassion and a brutal thought – the desire that Leia would put an end to the suffering that was so patent in every painful breath the young man took.

Sobbing, Leia walked over to his bedside. She couldn't look, she didn't want to look, but she did and she wanted to die.

"Oh, Luke. What can I do? WHAT CAN I DO?" she whimpered in despair. She touched his forehead and shivered at the sensation. He was both hot and deadly cold. Walking the fine line between life and death already.

She collapsed on the chair by the bed, burying her face in her hands.

"I can't do it, Auren. I can't! I'm not ready to say goodbye; not yet!" she wept hopelessly.

"It's all right," Auren sighed, crouching beside her. "Take your time. I'm sure he'll understand," she caressed her head maternally.

Auren stayed beside her while Leia cried her heart out.

* * *

"Lord Vader," Piett's voice brought the Sith Lord out of his contemplation.

"Admiral," Vader said darkly.

"It is the Emperor. He wishes to speak with you immediately."

There was a brief pause.

"Your time is almost over, Admiral," the mechanical voice announced dispassionately.

"Yes, milord," Piett nodded with remarkable aplomb as the black form turned about and left.

* * *

"What is thy bidding, my master?" Vader's anger was a simmering fire just beneath the surface of his emotions. But he'd learned to hide them well.

The well-known holographic image materialized in front of the kneeling Dark Lord.

"The disturbance in the Force is becoming stronger with every passing hour, Lord Vader," Palpatine stared down at his apprentice with laser eyes.

"I know, my master," Vader admitted.

"The balance of the Force is about to shift permanently; in favour of the Darkness, I would venture to say," rotten teeth were revealed in a twisted smile.

"It is possible," Vader agreed. His heart beat savagely in his chest, as if trying to fight that outcome by sheer force of will.

"How is your search for young Skywalker coming?"

"Ineffective, master." And wasn't that the truth?

"Who knows? Maybe our dilemma will sort itself out on its own. Would that not be exquisitely ironic?" Palpatine's pleasure at the prospect resonated in the Force with perverted glee, as the holograph slowly dissolved.

And for the first time, Vader's deep hatred was all directed at the abomination who had created him.

* * *

Physically and emotionally destroyed, Leia had fallen into a restless sleep. Making sure that she was comfortably tucked into her seat, Auren left to look for something the Princess' stomach could handle.

Disturbing images filled the distraught sleeper's mind. Images of a blond, blue-eyed little boy weeping himself to sleep night after night, and crying out his pain and loneliness to the heavens day after day. Nothing she hadn't dreamed of before.

But then, unexpectedly, wondrously, the dream changed. A dark, nebulous silhouette appeared in the distance, getting closer and closer to the sobbing child. The little boy eventually caught sight of it, and his sweet face lit up.

 _'DADDY!'_ he shouted, running towards the dark form as fast as his little legs allowed him.

The tall figure set off running towards the child and they met halfway. The young man dropped to his knees with his arms wide open, and the child slammed into him, holding onto his back for dear life.

 _'Daddy! Oh, daddy! Is it really you? Oh, daddy, I'm not dreaming, am I?'_

 _'You're not dreaming, my little one; and neither am I. We're together now and we'll never be alone again! Never again!'_ the young man promised, crushing the small body to his breast.

 _'I love you. I love you so much, daddy! Don't go. Please, don't go again!'_ the child wept, burrowing into the young man as if wanting to disappear in him.

 _'Never! I'll never leave you, my baby. We will never be parted again! Never. Never! NEVER!'_

The deeply entwined bodies pressed harder against each other. The child nuzzled his father's shoulder and the young man cupped the vulnerable head in his palm, cradling the boy like the most precious treasure.

A blissful eternity later they let go just enough to gaze at one another. Trembling hands soon joined in, and loving fingertips worshipped the beloved face reverently.

Inside her dream, Leia was stricken by the youth's beauty. Blond, blue-eyed, straight nose, strong, masculine jaw and a dimple on the chin that reminded her so much of... But oh, the look in his eyes as he stared at his son! It was poetry, it was love incarnated!

The brown gauntlet – gauntlet? – the young man wore on his right arm barely dared to touch the flushed face. It just framed the soft cheek almost like begging forgiveness.

The little boy tried to kiss his father's palm over and over, but the young man wouldn't allow it. It was almost as if he feared he would soil the child with his touch.

 _'You are perfect, my little angel,'_ he whispered to the boy, who blushed endearingly, kissing his father's hand at last. Reaching out unsteadily, the tiny fingers adored the face of the Father, wiping his tears away and just... caressing, caressing, caressing. Cheeks, forehead, nose, lips, chin, eyebrows... all of him.

The young man let himself go and covered the beautiful face with kisses, everywhere, desperate to compensate for all the heartache.

Tears soon got their faces wet again, but it didn't matter. These tears they could live with. These tears were their _reward_.

It was a symphony of boundless love. A love so pure and true that could ignite a sun, a galaxy, an entire universe.

Or redeem it.

* * *

Leia's eyes blinked open. The moment she did she let out a faint moan, clinging to the fading images of the dream and the rapturous emotions it stirred.

 _'No. NO! NONONONONONONO!'_ her mind wailed time and again. It was too beautiful. TOO beautiful! It couldn't just be a dream! It couldn't fade away just like that!

She rose from the chair on quivering legs, and walked groggily towards the bed.

She could hardly breathe. Her heart, her soul... they were so full! There were no words in any language to define the beauty, the completion she felt deep inside. This was how she wanted to feel for the rest of her life. It was LOVE in its purest form. It was a sublime state of being that couldn't possibly exist in this realm.

"Oh, Luke!" she groaned, reaching out a heavy hand and caressing the fevered brow. "Is this your most cherished dream? Is this childlike... _purity_ the real essence of you? Did I just catch a glimpse of your untouched self?" her fingers slid through the blond strands, feeling them tickle her hand. "My dear one, every minute we shared, has been a gift, and I'd give my life to return if only a small part of what you've given me," she sighed and looked up in supplication. "I wish..."

The doors opened and Auren walked in, carrying a tray.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry!" the woman apologized, seeing that she had intruded on a very private moment. "Do you want me to come back later?" she asked, embarrased.

"No," Leia smiled softly at her, feeling strangely at peace. And even more astonishing. _Hopeful._

Auren put the tray with the soup and the glass of juice she had brought on an empty table aside and walked over to Leia, curious at the look in her eyes and her expression.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You seem..."

Leia shook her head slowly, almost as if in a trance.

"I just had the most incredible dream, Auren," her voice floated up to the older woman's ears.

"Tell me," Auren tilted her head sideways in her usual attentive gesture.

The brown eyes fell closed, overwhelmed by the memory of the dream, still so fresh in her mind. She would remember it for as long as she lived.

"There are no words! No words to even _try_ to explain..." Leia bit her lower lip as the flood of feelings and emotions returned, amplified tenfold. "The absolute love, the exultant happiness... I feel as if I had walked through his naked soul and _seen him_... Oh, Auren, you can't possibly know what I felt!" she shivered at the sensations that ran through her trembling spirit. "If only I could make his dream come true..."

Something in Leia stiffened at her own words and then the craziest, most insane notion began to form...

No... No. Just... NO. It was flat out of the question. It was unimaginable. A betrayal of her principles, not to mention _treason_. She couldn't be seriously...

"It's understandable that you want to do something special for him before..." Auren stopped cold and called herself all different kinds of insensitive fool for her unthinking, clumsy words.

"I know," Leia shook her head, willing her rebellious thoughts away. But the seed had been planted and it had found the most fertile ground to grow. Love. Her immeasurable love for the angel who lay in his deathbed in front of her.

Her eyes turned helplessly to him, and she knew that a big part of her had made a decision already.

The rational part of her that still resisted tried to distract her, to make her forget about the plan that was already forming in the back of her mind.

"He always looked younger than he was," she thought back instinctively to the day they met. "But don't let his babyface fool you," her fingers resumed their rhythmic caress, soothing herself through the touch. "He's so intuitive, so resourceful, so smart, and the best pilot I've ever seen in combat."

Auren nodded at that. The destruction of the Death Star was a testament to Luke Skywalker's skill as a pilot.

Aching to let go of the insistent, stubborn images in her head that wouldn't go away, Leia kept talking. And talking.

"As I got to know him better, I realized there was more to him than met the eye," her eyes softened. "He was so innocent, so naïve sometimes... And yet, he blew me away with his profound insight, his unerring capacity to see beyond the surface of things, and people," she looked away, in wonder. "I could talk to him about everything until the wee hours of the morning. My fears, my hopes... my family..." she blinked back tears at the memory of her losses. But now wasn't the time to dwell on them, for Luke's losses rivalled and even surpassed her own. "And he shared his dreams and hopes with me too; his memories of his foster family... We found such comfort in each other."

 _'I love you. I love you so much, daddy! Don't go. Please, don't go again!'_

 _'Never! I'll never leave you, my baby. We will never be parted again! Never. Never! NEVER!'_

The abrupt flashback hit hard, so hard that it left her shaking inside. She closed her eyes against it, but its raw beauty pounded at her defences relentlessly, raising goosebumps all over her body.

"He's... an old soul," she found herself saying out of the blue. "So full of hope and forgiveness," she shivered again.

That's what was so irresistible about the dream, she suddenly realized. It was showing her Luke's deepest hopes and needs, and the cathartic fulfilment of them. But... could those needs be also Vader's, as preposterous as the idea would seem? Were Luke's hopes and needs actually _reciprocated_? Was that what the dreams were telling her?

Was there _any_ way for her to find out before it was too late?

"It never occurred to me before, but... Is Luke related to Anakin Skywalker in any way?" Auren asked candidly, unaware of what she was about to unleash.

Leia's heart almost stopped beating at the question. She turned her head towards the older woman as nonchalantly as she could manage.

"Did you know Anakin Skywalker?" she asked casually.

"Are you kidding?" Auren's eyes twinkled. "He was the poster boy of the Old Republic. 'The Hero With No Fear.' I don't think there was a teenage girl, or _any_ woman for that matter, who didn't have a crush on him."

Leia stared at her friend, stunned beyond words.

Oblivious to Leia's reaction, Auren continued on a roll.

"I even got to see him in person once."

 _'All right. All right. Calm down now,'_ Leia chided herself sternly. _'You *have* to take it easy.'_

"Really?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as if Auren's words had merely piqued her curiosity.

Auren nodded eagerly, and for a moment she _was_ the girl who got to meet her teenage crush so many years ago.

"It was... I don't know... A few weeks after the Clone Wars started," she began her tale, making an effort to remember the details. "But by then, he was already famous for the battles he had engaged in and the amazing victories he had won for the Republic."

Leia simply couldn't believe what she was hearing. Auren was talking about _Darth Vader_.

DARTH VADER, the monster. The _demon_.

"I was fifteen-sixteen years old, and I went on a trip to the Art Museum on Coruscant with my school. There were kids of all ages there," Auren reminisced. "Anyway, when we were leaving, someone spotted him walking down the street," she shook her head condescendingly. "It was madness after that. Everybody ran up to him and the older man who accompanied him and bombarded him with questions about the battles he'd been in, telling him how much they admired him..."

Leia nodded, still trying to wrap her mind around Auren's story.

"His answers were blunt and short, and I could tell he didn't like to talk about it. It really hurt him to remember," Auren's eyes filled with regret. "When it seemed they would finally let him go, a nervous little voice asked him if he was afraid of going into battle and sad at killing others." Deep into her memories now, Auren frowned. "Immediately, all the other kids started insulting the boy for asking that question, claiming that Anakin Skywalker didn't fear anything because he was a hero."

Vividly interested, Leia edged subtly forward.

"And what happened?" she asked.

"He did the very thing that made me fall for him, completely and forever," Auren said with clouded eyes. "He raised his voice for the first time and asked the children why they were attacking the little boy."

Swallowing hard, Auren kept talking with a catch in her voice.

"He walked up to the child and squatted down in front of him. He took his chin in his hand and made him meet his eyes. The little boy was crying in silence and hardly dared to hold his gaze. He wiped his tears away and told him it was the most intelligent question he'd ever been asked. He said that yes, he _was_ afraid every single time he went into battle, that he would be a fool if he wasn't because he could die at any moment, and _everyone_ is afraid to die."

Leia straightened up, unable to equate the Anakin Skywalker her friend's story was portraying with the mass murderer, unrepentant killer she so hated.

"Then..." Auren bit her lips, closing her eyes for a second, "...he looked around and glared at the other children with this look full of..." she looked up with a sigh, trying to find the words, "I don't know... Anger, pain, torment... And said that all life is special, unique and sacred, and it tore him apart to destroy it. He said that war was the lowest state of being because we were all reduced to our basest animal instincts and turned into monsters."

Leia's bewilderment knew no bounds.

Auren ground her teeth as she realized that Anakin Skywalker's words perfectly applied to the here and now. She only had to look at the dying young man before her to see the horrors of war in the flesh.

"Did he say anything else?" Leia's weak voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Yes," Auren nodded, without taking her eyes off Luke. "He stood up again, put his hand on the boy's head and caressed it, almost in a fatherly manner. He said that attacking someone just because they're different or think different is cowardly. That everyone is deserving of respect and tolerance, and the lack of those had taken us all to the situation we were in," she drew in a shuddering breath, remembering what came next. "And then, he took off the gauntlet he wore on his right arm, and showed us his mechanical prosthesis."

Leia paled like a ghost and reached for the back of the chair she'd been sitting in to keep from collapsing.

"'These are the consequences of hatred and war,' he said. 'Don't forget it.'" Instantly realizing the eerie parallelism with Luke's case, Auren turned sharply to Leia with a gasp. "Oh, my...!"

The Princess seemed to be in shock, grabbing the back of the chair and looking into the distance with her eyes wide open. She was clearly hyperventilating.

"Leia!" Auren reached out and took hold of her shoulder, trying to calm her down and make her focus. "Leia, you must..."

Something seemed to explode in the younger woman, and recovering with a speed that left the good doctor reeling, she ran out of the room.

"Stay with him until I return!" she shouted before the doors closed after her.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	5. Chapter 5

Leia wasn't thinking as she covered deck after deck. She _refused_ to think because she knew that if she did, she wouldn't do it. She couldn't defend her position and she couldn't justify the actions she was about to take. She only knew that it made sense... to her.

At long last, she arrived at the communications centre of the medical frigate. She burst in like a whirlwind.

The two officers sitting at their posts turned in their seats and on recognizing her, they sat up straighter.

"Your highness, is there anything we can do for you?" the older one asked.

Thinking fast, Leia decided to rely on her authority. She was about to commit an act of treason; the least she could do was pull rank and thus relieve these men from responsibility.

"Yes," she nodded gravely, taking a deep breath. There would be no going back after this.

She didn't hesitate.

"Leave the room. I must send a transmission."

The two officers obeyed at once. They took off their listening devices, put them on their consoles and stood up.

Leia moved aside and nodded back at them when they saluted her on their way out.

Once alone, she quickly sat at one of the consoles and put on one of the devices.

How was she going to do it?

The first thing was to make sure that the transmission never existed. That one was easy. As one of the top leaders of the Alliance, she only had to introduce a particular code before and after sending the message, and all traces of it would disappear from the ship's computer banks.

Also, she had to transmit in a frequency the Empire could intercept. If it failed, her act of treason would be useless. Then, she had to make certain that the message reached its intended recipient. It had to be a short message that only one person could understand.

The frequency was actually easy to pick. She thanked her father wordlessly for his history lessons in all fields.

The message itself took longer to write – it hurt to speak about someone so loved in such impersonal, cold terms.

Her finger lingered for a moment on the send button. She closed her eyes, mouthed a soundless 'please' and pressed the key.

It was done now. She couldn't change it back. But before she started thinking again, there was something else she had to do: to mitigate the consequences of her actions as much as she could. And that meant getting out of here as fast as possible... alone.

She pressed another button.

"Commander Quincy here," a strong male voice answered her call.

"Commander, this is Leia Organa," Leia marvelled at her firm tone of voice.

"Yes, your highness," the man acknowledged assertively.

"I want you to change course immediately. I am relaying the new coordinates to your console as we speak," she quickly pressed some keys and readied herself for the baffled reply.

"But your highness," the commander's voice conveyed utter incredulity as he undoubtedly tried to make sense of his new orders. "These coordinates would practically take us out of the galaxy."

"I'm aware of that, Commander," Leia stated the obvious. "Also, you will tell our escorts to stay with the rest of the Fleet. We'll be on our own from now on."

"Your highness..."

"It's an order, Commander. Please, proceed." Feeling strangely detached, Leia wondered at the absurdity of putting the words "order" and "please" in two consecutive sentences. It said it all about her current frame of mind.

"Yes, your highness," the pilot acquiesced without any further questions.

Shutting off the communication, Leia remained still, staring straight ahead, unmoving.

She had done it. She had successfully carried out an act of treason. In the name of love.

A slight tremor passed through her and seconds later, she was shivering uncontrollably.

"What have I done? What have I done?" she cried, covering her face with her hands.

* * *

The two communications officers waited patiently by the door, sharing ocassional curious glances, wondering what all the secrecy was about.

Finally, the door opened, and a perfectly composed Princess came out.

"I will be back in about four hours to get the reply message," she told them.

"Yes, your highness," they responded in unison.

Leia's long, confident strides slowed down to shorter, heavy ones the moment she disappeared from sight.

* * *

Auren rose to her feet when Leia walked in.

"Nothing's changed," she reported. "He muttered some unintelligible words a few minutes ago, but he's out again... Are you all right?" she asked, noticing the younger woman's alarming paleness.

"Yes," Leia nodded, walking straight to Luke's bedside. "I-I'd like some time alone with him, if you don't mind," she requested softly, not taking her eyes off him.

"Of course not," Auren took her hand and squeezed it on her way out.

Leia sank into the chair by Luke's bed. Shaking from head to toe, she reached out and stroked the emaciated visage with cold fingers.

"Oh, Luke! What have I done?" she lamented. "There is no reason for... _him_ to..." she looked up and let out a weary sigh. "And yet, something... Somewhere deep within... I feel... I _know_..." She lowered her eyes to the dying soul that meant more to her than her own life. "Please, tell me I did the right thing! Tell me I didn't just ensure the destruction of the Alliance pursuing a foolish quest!"

She jumped in her chair when one, two, and then three alarms went off almost simultaneously. And right then, right before her horrified eyes, Luke started to convulse once more.

She was on her feet trying to restrain him when Dr. Vilk and the nurses entered the room.

The ravaged, broken body went suddenly limp.

Vilk took a quick look at the monitors.

"His heart stopped! Begin resuscitation at once!" he shouted.

Leia drew back and watched the scene as if it wasn't really happening. Everything seemed unreal, like watching a holomovie. She felt disconnected from the madness around her, the loud voices, the frantic commotion surrounding her.

Until, in a rush, she was back inside herself, seeing the dearest thing to her heart exhale his last breath.

"LUKE!" she cried out, feeling as if her own heart had stopped beating along with his. "LUKE, DON'T GO! DON'T GO, PLEASE! PLEASE, DON'T!"

* * *

The Dark Lord of the Sith walked up the Executor's bridge with long, ominous strides, straight for a colourless Admiral Piett, who watched in abject horror how his destiny was coming to meet him. Just before Vader reached him though, _something_ appeared to slam into him. He stopped dead in his tracks and doubled over, his cape closing in around him almost protectively, hiding him from the stumped eyes of his subordinates. A mechanical groan, heartrendingly human at its core, escaped his throat.

Mystified, Piett looked around, as though to verify from the other officers on the bridge that he wasn't hallucinating.

He wasn't.

"L-Lord Vader?" he asked tentatively, taking a little step forward.

An eternity seemed to pass before the big form unfolded itself and gradually rose up, fists tightly clenched at his sides.

"No. No. Nonononononono..." an inaudible litany escaped Vader's lips, a violent denial of the truth he could feel in his blood.

The moment stretched out for what felt like forever. Vader made a herculean effort to not collapse as his eyesight faded in and out and his heart hammered against his ribs, crying out its terror and helplessness.

An excited bustle coming from below floor level had Piett looking down at one of the communications officers sitting at his post. He was making gestures at his nearby companions, asking them to verify something, and nodding enthusiastically.

"What is it, officer?" he asked.

"I've got something, sir!" the chubby, middle-aged man pointed at his console with his index finger.

Both Vader and Piett hurried to the very edge of the pit.

"What have you got?" Piett seemed to realize that the Dark Lord was in no condition to take over yet.

"A short message, Admiral," the officer smiled slyly. "In a frequency that hasn't been used in decades. Since the days of the Old Republic at least," there was a fleeting look of confusion in his eyes. "But the strangest thing is that the message is only partially coded."

"What do you mean?" Piett asked, arching his eyebrows.

"The body of the message is coded, but not the recipient. It makes no sense," he scratched his head, perplexed. "It's almost as if it was _meant_ to be intercepted."

"It could be a decoy," Piett suggested, clearly suspicious.

"To whom is it addressed?" Vader's voice sounded strained but firm. Inside, he was experiencing an overpowering feeling of foreboding.

"To an Anakin Skywalker, milord," was the mind-blowing answer.

" _Anakin_ Skywalker?!" Piett exclaimed in disbelief.

"Give me that message!" Vader ordered, reaching out his arm.

"But milord, I haven't decoded it yet..." the officer began.

"I SAID GIVE IT TO ME!" the superhuman roar promised to crush every living being in the ship.

The officer sprang to his feet, disc in hand. Piett bent down to retrieve it and handed it to Vader, who snatched it and disappeared from the bridge like a haunted black spirit devoured by his obsession.

* * *

Leia paced back and forth faster and faster. She was not afraid, she was enraged. Luke couldn't die. Couldn't die! Not now, when they were so close to...

It had to mean something. This senseless ordeal, this _nightmare_ they were all going through... there HAD to be a purpose to it!

Auren followed the Princess' frenetic pacing, fearing what would happen when Dr. Vilk emerged from the adjoining room and told them... for she harboured no doubts about the inevitable outcome. She closed her stinging eyes.

"Leia..." she began in a shaky voice.

Leia whipped around and faced the older woman with bloodshot eyes.

"He's NOT dead, Auren. YOU HEAR ME?! HE'S *NOT* DEAD!"

Auren stood and approached the distressed Princess, who couldn't stop wringing her hands.

The door opened and before Vilk was even out of the room, Leia was already in his face.

"He's alive, isn't he? Isn't he?" her tone left no room for disagreement.

Vilk nodded tiredly, and both women realized he almost regretted that fact.

"More organs are failing him now," he shook his head dejectedly. "He won't survive the next 24 hours, your highness. Keeping him alive in this state borders on therapeutic cruelty," he tried to reason with the unyielding Princess.

"I have my motives," Leia replied unbendingly. "Whatever happens, you *must* keep him alive for 12 hours," her eyes turned to the white-haired man's in supplication. "12 hours, doctor! That's all I ask!"

"I'm afraid it's not in my hands anymore," Vilk reminded her of the irrevocability of the situation with a despondent shrug.

* * *

Away from prying stares, Darth Vader sat still at his console. The sound of his respirator pumping oxygen into his lungs was the only sign of life in his otherwise silent chambers.

His eyes wouldn't look away from the words he'd decoded a few minutes ago. The words that announced the end of his world and his only hope.

To Anakin Skywalker:

The Light is dying. If you want to say goodbye before it's all over, you **must** come alone. You have 24 hours. Meet at the following coordinates.

He didn't need to look at the coordinates again. The numbers had etched themselves into his brain the instant he'd read them. But the words... THE words...

The Light is dying.

 _Dying._

He didn't have to be told. He _knew_. He had been feeling it for days. He could feel his child's lifeforce slipping away with every passing second.

But having it confirmed... Reading it in such a thoughtless manner... it felt shocking and offensive; as if the boy's existence was irrelevant. As if Luke Skywalker's life had never meant anything. As if no one cared whether he lived or died.

' _Ani, I'm pregnant.'_

' _That's wonderful!'_

' _Daddy, where are you? I need you. I need you so much!'_

' _Our baby is a blessing.'_

' _Father!'_

' _Son, come with me.'_

' _I want to die!'_

"Your existence means _everything_."

His own voice snapped him out of his spell. Pulling himself together with a deep intake of breath, he turned around and activated the screen, revealing Piett's back.

"Admiral Piett," he called hoarsely.

Piett quickly turned, hands behind his back.

"Yes, Lord Vader?"

"Prepare my shuttle at once and meet me in the hangar deck."

A look of surprise crossed Piett's face.

"Acknowledged, milord," he nodded. The screen went blank.

Vader turned back to the console and looked at it without seeing it.

' _He will join us in the Dark Side, or die.'_

' _Father.'_

' _You killed him!'_

' _Daddy!'_

A startingly shaking hand appeared before him and typed a brief reply. On autopilot, he entered the appointed frequency and sent the message.

It was done. In a few hours, he would be gazing upon the beautiful, tormented face he had dreamed about for weeks; the visage that had plagued his nightmares and his waking hours, whispering impossible promises, tempting him with feelings he had cursed and despised for as long as the child had been alive.

One thing he was certain of, though. If he was going, he had to go as a father, not a Sith. The message had been addressed to Anakin Skywalker, and even if that person had ceased to exist decades ago, he knew he wouldn't be allowed near his son any other way.

Rising in all his imposing form, he abandoned his quarters, wondering passingly where he would be when it all ended.

* * *

Leia hadn't moved from Luke's side for the last two hours. She sat at his side, holding his hand in an unbreakable grip, willing him to stay in the world of living with every ounce of passion she possessed.

Not one word had been said. A tense silence permeated the air. The machines keeping the young man alive made the only audible sounds in the room, and at this point, Auren was grateful for them. The cadence of those sounds was soothing, and as long as nothing disturbed that cadence, everything would be all right.

A soft alarm went off, shattering the silence, and almost giving the poor woman a heart attack.

Unfazed, Leia moved her left arm and checked the time. Nodding to herself, she released the unresponsive hand with the utmost care and stopped the alarm on her wrist. She stood up, all determination and resolve, and bent down to the dying man's ear.

"I'm leaving for a while," she whispered to him, her voice shaking with trepidation and anger. "You'd better still be here when I return, or I will never forgive you, do you hear me? I'll NEVER forgive you!" she threatened, straightening up with all the dignity she could muster and exiting the room.

* * *

Vader entered the hangar deck and walked up to his shuttle. Admiral Piett and two pilots awaited him by the deployed ramp.

"Your ship is ready, milord," Piett informed the Dark Lord with a nod.

"Good," Vader approved, turning his eyes to the pilots. "Your services are not required. I will pilot the shuttle myself."

Astoundment showed in the two pilots' faces, but they complied with Vader's orders and walked away.

"Anything else, milord?" Piett asked his superior officer once they were alone.

"Yes," Vader produced a disc that Piett took from his hand. "I am leaving here precise instructions for you to follow, including a special coded frequency I will use to communicate with you and _only_ with you if it were necessary. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, Lord Vader," Piett felt oddly honoured by the privilege the Dark Lord had bestowed on him. "Have a safe flight," he flinched inside, wondering what in blazes had made him say that. With Vader's mercurial temper, who knew what his reaction would be towards a comment that could be easily miscontrued as flippant?

"You are welcome, Admiral," Vader's retreating voice spoke while its owner began to ascend the ramp.

With his jaw almost hitting the floor, Piett watched the massive form disappear inside the shuttle.

Unbeknownst to Piett, a crooked half smile appeared on the pale lips behind the mask. Little did the Admiral know that the disc he had given him was the same disc where the communications officer had recorded the Alliance's transmission. All traces that the message had ever existed, would disappear the moment Piett played his instructions.

Indeed, irony was one of the most exquisite pleasures in life.

* * *

Leia entered the communications centre of the medical frigate for the second time that day. The two officers turned their heads and on seeing her, they rose to their feet and exited the room with a polite nod to her.

"Thank you," she told them before the door closed.

She sat at one of the consoles and tuned in to the right frequency. The answering message shouldn't take long now.

She waited for the longest eight minutes of her life. Every moment apart from Luke was agony, and the uncertainty of not knowing how he was, unbearable.

At last, a short beep announced that a message had been received. Cold sweat broke out over her entire body. Shivering, she opened it and decoded it.

I am coming. Alone. Meet at the appointed coordinates.

A dry snort escaped her, releasing some of the tension around her throat.

Curt and to the point. That was Darth Vader.

It suddenly dawned on her that in about five hours she would face her nemesis, the one and only being she hated with all her soul, responsible for causing more damage to herself and all those she cared about than anyone else in the Empire.

Would she be able to handle it? What had possessed her in the first place to...?

' _Calm down. Calm down!'_ she told herself, willing her uncontrolled rage to subside. _'You know why you are doing it. Because despite everything, something keeps telling you that he's the key to this. The decent, upright man Auren's story portrayed, the loving father holding his child in your dream... One way or another, this conflict will come to an end.'_

Dragging her arm across the console, she deleted the message. Once she'd taken care of that, she crossed her arms and lowered her head with a sigh.

' _Oh, Han!'_ she allowed herself to think of her beloved. _'I wish you were here! I wish you could help me to make peace with what I'm doing. You could always navigate through the grey areas of life better than I. I wish...'_ feeling that her eyes were beginning to tear up, she sobered swiftly. She'd learned to keep a tight rein on her emotions eons ago. Only a very selected few were permitted to see beneath the façade, and none of them was with her now.

Biting her lower lip, she took a deep breath and stood. Squaring her shoulders, she left the room with a quiet 'thank you' to the two men waiting outside.

* * *

Auren stood from Leia's chair when the Princess entered. She had been holding Luke's hand, trying to keep a lifeline between the young man and the people who loved him.

"He's still with us," she smiled bashfully.

Leia returned the poignant smile and relieved her, taking hold of the bony hand between her own and sitting down.

"You should eat," Auren reminded her some time later. "I heated the soup again," she nodded in the direction of the tray on the small table.

"Not now," Leia shook her head.

"Are you sure of what you're doing?" Auren dared to ask after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

"By keeping him alive?" Leia met her friend's eyes wistfully.

Auren nodded.

Leia looked away.

"I know what I'm _hoping_ _for_ ," she said at last. "In any case, we'll know before the day is over."

"Do you trust your dreams _that much_?"

Auren's inability to understand resonated profoundly with Leia. If she wasn't the one having those dreams, she would be exactly in her position.

"I trust Luke and..." she bit her tongue. "I trust his heart. I know why he wants to die, and I don't intend to let him go before I've done everything in my power to prevent it. If there's any chance, any chance _at all_ , to save his life and maybe solve this, then I'm bound to do it; as his friend, as the only _family_ he has."

The mention of the word 'family' brought back the memory of their earlier conversation.

"Tell me about Anakin Skywalker," she requested all of a sudden, stroking the back of the limp hand absent-mindedly. "How was he, physically? His voice, his mannerisms..."

"Oh," surprised by the non sequitur, Auren retreated back into her memories of her adolescent crush with a faraway smile. "He was very young; no more than 20 years old. Tall, blond, blue-eyed... and very handsome. Straight nose, full lips, and the most penetrating gaze. But..." she made an effort to remember her thoughts at the time, so many years ago, "...there was something behind his eyes... Something that spoke of... of a soul in pain. He was deeply scarred inside."

Leia swallowed hard. Definitely, it was the same man she'd seen in her dream – as if there were any doubts left – but the personality Auren described couldn't be more different. The young man in her dream _glowed_ with love for his son. He looked at Luke as if he was the only light in his universe, his very reason to live.

"And yet..."

Auren's enraptured voice brought her back to the present.

"...The way he stood up for the child who was being insulted by his peers... The way he taught his bullies a lesson..." she nodded in understanding. "Only now I see what he did. He was able to turn an ugly situation into something positive," she made a bitter grimace. "He was wise beyond his years but he'd paid a price for that wisdom." A short silence followed. Then she smiled, remembering her youthful naiveté. "At the time I just thought he'd make an incredible father. Even if Jedi weren't allowed to marry."

Leia's ears pricked swiftly.

"They weren't?"

Auren shook her head.

"They lived a life of seclusion and retirement. There was an aura of mystery around them that was very exciting for the public. You'd be surprised at the rumours that circulated around the galaxy."

"What rumours?" Leia asked.

"Really outrageous ones," Auren smiled in amusement. "Like they were born in pods... That they had the power of invisibility..." she chuckled.

But Leia's mind was going in another direction. If Jedi weren't allowed to marry and Anakin Skywalker had engendered a son, that meant he'd gone against the rules. It meant he'd loved fiercely enough to risk everything he believed in and sworn to uphold to embrace a human passion.

For the first time, Leia wondered what had happened; what had turned Anakin Skywalker into the implacable enforcer of a regime based on the complete suppression of individual freedom, and the merciless annihilation of all dissension she'd known all her life.

What had gone wrong in his soul to the point of brutalizing and mutilating his own child, who had done nothing but love him since the day he was born?

The answer to that question was likely to remain a mystery. What she _did_ know, was that she had to be prepared to face that creature of evil in a few hours.

"I think I'll have that soup now," she blurted out. She hadn't expected to say that, but she was glad she did when Auren's face lit up with joy. "Want to take over now?" she stood and offered Luke's hand to her.

"It'll be an honour," Auren walked over to Leia, took the warm hand in hers and sat down on the chair she vacated. Unconsciously, she began to caress it.

' _You're much too loved to give up now, young man,'_ she mused. _'Give yourself a chance at life.'_

TO BE CONTINUED...


	6. Chapter 6

The Princess forced herself to eat, her worried eyes glued to the dying young man she'd come to love like her own flesh. When she finished, she left for a few minutes to "issue some instructions" and promptly returned, perching herself at her post by Luke's bedside, holding his hand as if her very life depended on it.

The hours passed uneventfully. Dr. Vilk walked in twice to check Luke's vitals. His state kept deteriorating, slowly but inexorably. He would cast Leia a pointed look and then left without a word.

Leia and Auren exchanged short glances, but Leia's warning looks effectively killed any attempt to even negotiate.

The tense wait ended when a single spasm shook Luke's frail body as if he'd received an electric shock. The two women jumped in their seats and stared at him fearing the worst, but unbelievably, the alarms didn't go off.

Right then, a soft beeping sound resounded through the ship.

Leia stiffened and paled, but quickly composing herself, she stood to her feet almost like an automaton. She squeezed Luke's hand hard and let it go with painful reluctance. She trembled visibly.

"What is it?" Auren asked apprehensively, walking up to her.

To her utter confusion, Leia took her by the shoulders and faced her squarely, her dark brown eyes flashing with an earnestness that left the older woman breathless.

"Listen to me, Auren. I need you to do me a favour. A very important, personal favour," she told her, her voice lowering an octave. "I'm asking you as a friend."

"Of course," Auren replied.

Leia took a deep breath.

"I want you to leave this room and return only when I tell you to."

Auren's eyes opened wide.

"Please, trust me," Leia begged her, anticipating her question. "I know what I'm doing. Dr. Vilk also has instructions to check on Luke only when I allow it."

Auren gulped, rooted to the floor by the unfathomable look in Leia's eyes. But the sheer desperation she saw beneath melted all resistance.

"All right," she acquiesced with a nod.

One of the robot nurses entered the room, and Leia took the opportunity to grab Auren's upper arm and drag her gently along out of the room.

Auren looked around once they were outside, immediately noticing that Vilk was nowhere to be seen. Then, Leia's hands took hold of her shoulders again.

"Please," she asked one last time. "Don't go near the infirmary unless I tell you it is safe to do so." The desperation was back in her dark depths.

"I promise," the words were out of Auren's lips before she even thought of them.

Relief showed on Leia's face and a little smile softened her features. She nodded.

"Go now," she said.

Trusting her young friend implicitly, Auren left.

Alone at last, Leia took a moment to gather her thoughts and prepare herself for one of the hardest, if not _the_ hardest confrontation she would ever have. It was imperative that she held her ground and didn't give an inch. She was going to face a formidable enemy and the only thing she could count on was that _anything_ was to be expected.

That's why she had a small security squadron at the ready, just in case.

With long and fast strides, she made it to the hangar deck where a young lieutenant in his late twenties was waiting for her.

"We detected an Imperial shuttle heading straight for our coordinates, your highness," he reported.

Leia nodded solemnly.

"On my responsibility, prepare to receive the shuttle aboard, lieutenant," she ordered. "I will deal with the passengers myself. Now, have all decks cleared from here to the infirmary."

It took a few disconcerted seconds for the young man to take in the orders he was receiving. He nodded and left to carry them out.

Leia knotted her fists at her sides and stood firm in the middle of the deck, waiting for the shuttle she could somehow feel getting closer and closer. She closed her eyes and started to breathe slow and easy, willing her heartbeat to quiet.

Keeping her cool was _crucial_.

When she opened them again she wasn't surprised to see a Lambda-class shuttle manoeuvring smoothly to clear the hangar entrance. The lower wings folded upwards and the elegant ship touched down almost delicately.

The Princess approached the already deploying ramp, and her features hardened at the sight of the black, towering figure descending from it.

Palpably tense moments ticked by as the two sworn enemies came face to face.

Leia experienced an almost physical need to hurl herself at that ugly beast and snuff the life out of him with her bare hands.

She had before her the very being that was causing the death of the person she loved like a part of her. Like the _best_ part of her.

For his part, Vader's shock knew no bounds. Not only because the young Princess' hate was a pulsating, living thing wrapping itself around his neck like a tightening rope, but because she was bolstering those feelings _through the Force_.

 _Leia Organa was Force sensitive._

When had she developed the skill? Why hadn't he felt her Force potential in all the years they'd known each other and been in each other's presence? What _in Sith hell...?_

Whatever had awakened those abilities, one thing was plain as day. She hadn't been taught how to master and harness that power. Her feelings and emotions were all over the place and she was making no effort to hide them.

She was also markedly paler and thinner than the last time they'd seen each other. Dark rings under her eyes were stark evidence of the ordeal she was going through.

Seconds passed in which both adversaries appraised each other and the situation... and reached an unspoken stalemate.

The Princess nodded harshly and turned about with a dry, "Follow me."

The Sith Lord allowed himself to be escorted out of the hangar. They walked through several empty corridors that he surmised had been cleared before his arrival. He strongly doubted that anyone other than the Princess herself knew he was here.

Walking behind the petite young woman, he admitted to himself there was a lot to admire in that little Rebel. She was a very outspoken opponent in the Imperial Senate and a cunning strategist; and her raw mental strength, with absolutely no previous training, indicated she would be a magnificent Force user. A diamond in the rough.

Just like his son.

The more corridors they covered the more oppressive the feeling of dread became. With every step, a feeling of suffering beyond measure closed in on him like a suffocating mist.

"How is he?" The words were out of his lips with a breathy tone.

"Dying," was the matter-of-fact answer. "Our doctor is convinced he won't make it through the night."

"We will see about that," he replied challengingly.

The moment he said it a strange weakness came over him; his heart skipped a nasty beat and started pounding, clobbering his ribs in a frenzy.

He was suddenly frantic to see his child with his own eyes, to feel his vital force flowing through his veins.

They reached a double door that slid open before them. Vader found himself in a waiting room with several seats, a food dispenser, a small table with what seemed like a safe on it, and a door on the other side.

His son laid behind that door.

He wasn't aware he'd started for it until the Princess appeared before him, right hand up and out, forbidding him from entering.

He didn't know what stopped him from grabbing her and throwing her aside.

"You're NOT getting in there with _that_!" she spat, casting a fast look at his belt.

Vader looked down at his lightsaber.

"I will * **NOT** * surrender my weapon," he refused adamantly.

"You will surrender it to _me_ ," the feisty Princess didn't relent. "Considering what you did to him the last time you met, I won't allow you anywhere near him with that _thing_." The hatred and disgust in the young woman's heart escalated to unprecedented heights.

Vader recoiled at those spiteful words that hit him harder than the blast of an ion cannon through the guts. Slow, unsteady fingers unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and handed it over to the already outstretched hand.

Leia snatched the weapon from his grip and put it away in the safe on the table. She dialed a combination that Vader couldn't see and turned again to him.

"You'll have it back when you leave." The implication that she wanted him out of her sight as soon as possible didn't escape the Dark Lord.

A robot nurse rolled up to them. She sprinkled Leia's front and back with a fine colourless solution and then did the same to him.

Straightening up and fisting her hands, the Princess strode past him. The door opened.

Walking on mechanical limbs that suddenly refused to cooperate, Vader entered the sterile room where his child was living his last hours.

The first thing that struck him was the size of the bed and the machinery surrounding it, compared to the small body lying in it. But _nothing_ could have prepared him for the vision he encountered.

Prostrated by an illness that had consumed everything that reminded him of the young man he'd confronted weeks ago, Luke Skywalker was _literally_ skin and bones; devoured from within by an unspeakable agony that was as much of the body as of the soul.

But what horrified him the most wasn't his son's physical state; it was the absolute lack of _humanity_ in the shell of flesh that housed his essence. His heart was still beating, his lungs were still breathing, but his child wasn't _in there_ anymore. His spirit, his will to fight, the guileless idealism he'd worn on his sleeve that he'd scorned and sworn to wipe out, were truly gone. Like his right hand. The stump at the end of his forearm peeked beneath the cooling blanket covering his withering frame.

The hand he'd sliced off unremorsefully.

The appalling sight before him was a mirror. The mirror of his crimes, of the hatred he'd carried inside and nurtured all his life.

He was staring at the outward expression of his own putrid soul.

He stumbled forward.

"W-W-What...?" he couldn't finish the question.

"Sepsis."

There it was. The word that would destroy his last hope, his only remaining link to what he had been once, to _her_ , to the best of them both.

"All his organs are failing," the Princess' account of his son's condition continued unmercifully. "Every single treatment we tried, was useless." A brief pause. "He went into cardiac arrest this afternoon."

The gloved hands gripped the foot of the bed to keep the immense form from collapsing.

"We got him back, but... how could we hope to mend the heart you broke to pieces?"

The helmeted head tore itself away from the fragile creature hanging to life by a thread, and turned to the furious woman who trembled with anger and despair.

Leia's head turned to him as well and for the first time, the barest hint of emotion showed behind her eyes.

Sarcasm. Bitterness.

"Congratulations. You killed him."

 _'You killed him.'_

Vader's breathing hitched and he stared at the young Princess with bulging eyes.

"You found me... No."

The almost inaudible whimper made both heads whip around in astonishment.

Luke's eyes were wide open, fixed on the monster out of his worst nightmares standing at the foot of his bed. In his emaciated state, his eyeballs looked about to pop out of their sockets in terror.

"He'll annihilate us all, Leia! Please, please, don't let him!"

Leia just looked at him, dumbstruck; a part of her brain wondering where he'd found the strength to utter those words and another part immediately questioning the wisdom of what she had done. What if...? Oh, no! HEAVENS, NO!

"No... No... No!" the distraught blue eyes rolled back and the convulsions started anew.

In a flash, Vader was beside his fading son, reaching out and putting his hand on his forehead, fingertips seeking the precise points on his temples and instinctively passing on everything he was, everything he had to the boy - his only thought, keeping him alive _any_ way he could.

 _'Soothe him. Soothe him. Soothe him!'_ an almost forgotten voice shouted inside him.

"Luke. Luke!" he called out with all the authority he could muster. "Calm down. You must calm down! I will not hurt you. Listen to me! I will *not* hurt you! Calm down, my child! It's all right. It _is_ all right. I won't ever hurt you. Shhh. Shhh... Easy... Easy now."

Endless seconds later, the impossible happened. Luke's convulsions slowly began to subside. Bit by torturous bit, his agitated respiration and then his eyes returned to normal.

"That's it. Good. Slow and easy," Vader's eyes sought the panicked ones that regarded him feverishly, so full of naked fear... and something else he didn't identify. The Sith Lord nodded approvingly. "Focus on your breathing. Everything will be all right. I will not hurt you. I will not hurt _anyone_ , I promise. Shhh..."

The rhythmic cadence of his reassurances seemed to give Luke something to hold on to. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow, and Vader wiped them away with a gentleness that would have shocked Rebels and Imperials alike.

"Sleep now. You have to concentrate on healing, do you hear me? Sleep, my boy. Just sleep..."

Stunned beyond comprehension, Leia watched the scene trying to understand why she hadn't reacted when Vader had rushed to Luke's bedside, why she hadn't tried to stop him when he'd laid his blood-stained hands on him; and why in hell Vader's actions felt so... _right_.

 _'We're together now and we'll never be alone again!'_

 _'I'll never leave you, my baby. We will never be parted again! Never. Never! NEVER!'_

Thoroughly disconcerted, she withdrew into herself, forcing herself to accept what her instincts were telling her, even if it went against everything common sense dictated.

' _I love you so much, daddy! Don't go. Please, don't go again!'_

"Would you consent to let me stay with him?"

Vader's polite request startled her out of her thoughts. Automatically, her eyes looked for the only one who mattered.

Luke's breathing was deep and regular. For the first time since this nightmare started, he seemed relaxed in his sleep.

She hated to admit it, but her feelings had been correct. Vader _was_ the answer.

She made an ironical face, unable to help herself.

"I guess that's why you're here, aren't you?" she scoffed derisively. A heartbeat later, she made it for the door. "I'll tell Dr. Vilk _what_ to expect when he walks in."

She'd taken just a few steps when she stopped dead and spun around to look at him.

Vader met her gaze and nodded his promise.

And the Princess did the bravest thing she'd ever done. She left, entrusting her most precious treasure to a Dark Lord of the Sith.

* * *

Alone with his son at last, Vader stood still, eyes riveted on the skeletal body, feeling as though a billion pins and needles were pricking his insides, tearing emotions from him that he hadn't experienced in a lifetime.

A shaking hand reached out to the sleeping young man, but it froze centimetres away from the ashen face.

 _'Congratulations. You killed him.'_

 _'NO!'_

 _'FATHER!'_

 _'What have I done?'_

 _'All I want is your love.'_

 _'Love won't save you, Padme.'_

 _'Come away with me. Help me raise our child!'_

 _'Our baby is a blessing.'_

A tiny wail left Luke's throat, accompanied by a wheezy laboured breath – a sign of pulmonary edema, as he very well knew.

His hand lingered over the gaunt features, incapable of taking the final step.

Luke's wheezing turned into a full-blown fit of coughing. He raised his head from the pillow, eyes wide open and unfocused.

Vader's hand immediately cupped the back of the blond head, holding it up, and he introduced the other beneath the blanket, right on the heaving chest. He started rubbing in circles, encouraging the spasming muscles to relax.

"Easy. Easy, Luke! It'll pass. It _will_ pass, trust me. Don't exert yourself. It's going to be all right. Shhh... Easy, child. Calm down."

Without a sliver of strength left, Luke's head lolled in Vader's palm like a rag doll's. Vader held it more steadily, and pressed down softly on the ribcage, coaxing the boy into taking slow and deep breaths.

"Breathe with me, Son. Slowly... Slowly... Let the air get in. In... Out... In... Out. That's it. I know it hurts but you must hold on. Take in deep breaths and it will pass... Shhh..."

They soon established a perfect rhythm. Vader pressed down slightly and Luke exhaled his breath; Vader eased up the pressure and Luke's ribcage expanded under his hand.

"Good. Good, Luke. Keep going. Keep going, don't stop," Vader praised, moving his hand away little by little.

The awful wheezing sounds eased as well, and Vader lowered his other hand, putting Luke's head back on the pillow. Swallowing hard, he allowed his thumb to move aside a wet strand of hair. After that, it seemed only natural to slide his fingers down the waxen face. Down the cheek, all around the chin, lingering on the dimple there...

 _'Don't do that. Stop doing that, or you will be lost. Don't. DON'T!'_

But he couldn't stop. He just _couldn't_. It was pure instinct, pure need, stronger than anything he had ever felt before.

 _'So soft... It hurts... Force, how it hurts!'_

His hand framed the drawn face, feeling the solid reality of it, imprinting his child's warmth in his deepest core.

Leia returned when Vader was moving his hand back. She raised a suspicious eyebrow, but Vader just straightened up and stepped back a couple paces unthreateningly.

The Princess walked up to the other side of the bed. She sat down proprietorally beside Luke, and her hardened features softened as she took his hand between her own.

An unwelcome, unsettling feeling of jealousy mixed with something that he couldn't tell if it was envy or plain resignation rose in the Dark Lord's breast. Somewhere deep inside he understood he had no rights to his son. He was a virtual stranger to him, a stranger who'd hunted him down like a rabid animal and mutilated him savagely in an attempt to break him.

 _'Congratulations. You killed him.'_

Yes. To all intents and purposes, that's exactly what he had done.

Feeling eerily dissociated from the reality around him, he watched how the Princess spoke into his son's ear, trying to keep him anchored to the outside world.

It was obvious that the two youths had forged a deep bond, maybe enhanced by the Force. Observing the Princess now, clinging to his son's hand as much as he was clinging to life through her, he detected an edge of desperation in her eyes and her touch that revealed more about her state of mind than she probably would want him to know.

Looking at their joined hands, he abruptly remembered Luke's frenzied appeal. The boy had been certain he would kill them all.

No wonder, considering...

But there had been something else there. A single-minded, almost fanatical conviction...

"Why did he say, 'you found me'?" he asked unexpectedly, breaking the silence.

Leia's eyes turned to him gradually, as if it took her a great effort to acknowledge his very presence in the same room as them.

"He was terrified you would find us through his... mental connection with you. He felt he was endangering the Alliance just..." she took in a sobbing breath. "...Just by being alive. He thinks that the fact that you're here means that in his weakness he betrayed us all," she blinked hard and looked down again at their clasped hands.

Vader blanched on hearing that. Was the Princess implying that his son was letting himself die rather than risk he would find them? Was that the reason why she'd ultimately called him?

It had to be. There was no other explanation.

And in that moment, his admiration for that young woman, her amazing courage and willingness to abandon her principles and everything she believed in to save a life, both overwhelmed and reminded him of someone from ages past. An impetuous, impulsive young man, always ready to bend the rules in pursuit of what he thought was right, no matter what.

He inched closer to the bed and spoke almost without thinking.

"Hating me the way you do, it must have been very difficult for you to go against your principles and commit what essentially is an act of treason. You must know I respect what you did."

Leia's head snapped up to look at him with fiery, unforgiving eyes. She didn't want the Sith Lord's appreciation or understanding of her sacrifice. She didn't want anything from him. She just wanted Luke to get well so she never had to look upon that repugnant mask again.

"Oh, I _do_ hate you," her eyes blazed with the emotion in question, "make no mistake about that." Her rough breathing echoed in the room like a krayt dragon about to spit fire. Even her nostrils flared. But then, she looked down at the dying angel holding on to her hand and all anger disappeared from her face as quickly as it had come. "But I love him more," she pressed her cheek against the back of Luke's bony hand and closed her eyes, soaking up his touch, letting it suffuse her being.

Taken aback by the intensity of her emotions, Vader drew back. No, he didn't doubt the young woman's love for his son; he'd had ample proof of her devotion to him. It was the nature of that love that puzzled him. Her relationship with Solo had been apparent right from the start, but what she had with Luke truly defied description. In its own way, it was a bond just as deep as the love she'd shared with the cocky smuggler; but with his child... It felt more like a connection of the soul.

The Princess turned her head aside and Vader winced when he saw her wipe an errant tear away surreptitiously.

From his detached vantage point, it suddenly dawned on him the profound loneliness of that woman. All feeling of security, everything and everyone she'd ever loved, had been stripped away from her or destroyed. Her home planet and all her family there first, and now the two men she loved in two very different ways.

He had before him the very image of desolation and bereavement. And she still had the strength to fight for his son, turning to her sworn enemy for help.

As if sensing his scrutiny, the Princess kissed the pale fingers and deposited Luke's hand back on the bed. She stood and, ignoring him completely, turned away from him, doubtlessly seeking to compose herself in private.

Giving her the privacy she needed, Vader's eyes settled on the heartbreaking form of his child.

 _'Blood of my blood. Flesh of my flesh. Why can't I reach you? Why can't I...?'_

His musings were interrupted by a shrilling beep that made him jump. He looked around, trying to find where the alarm was coming from.

The Princess must have recognized the sound though, because she let out a muffled scream as she looked at one of the monitors and the flat line that appeared on it.

"NO! NO, LUKE! Don't do this to me again!"

And Vader understood. Not with his mind, not with his brain, but on a visceral level.

His son's heart had stopped.

Something exploded inside him and he lost control altogether. Later on, he wouldn't even remember what he had done exactly. He just knew that his world was ending right then and there; his last link to the woman he'd loved more than his own soul. A deafening roar echoed through the room, and the Dark Lord found himself at his son's bedside.

He was peripherically aware of the door sliding open, a white-haired man bursting in, and the Princess crying out something like: "Don't leave me! You're all I've got!"

He didn't think, he just reacted, almost in self-defense. He thrust out one hand, slamming the doctor against the wall with a Force push. He wouldn't allow anyone near his child. Anyone! Not until he had his say!

Sitting down on his son's bed, he held his head between his hands and brought it close, until he touched the naked forehead to the front of his helmet. He pushed with his mind. He pushed with everything he had until he felt a searing pain behind his eyes. He fumbled for the unresponsive consciousness that only sought to escape him, even if it meant crossing over to the other side.

' _You will cease your repeated attempts to commit suicide at once!'_ he demanded. _'I told you I wouldn't hurt you. **Yes** , I'm a monster, but despite everything I've done, I've never been in the habit of lying to you. What am I supposed to do for you to believe me? Do you want me to follow you unto death? I will. Is that what you want? Do you want to destroy the lives of all those who care about you? I know you're not a coward, my son, but you're taking the easy way out. Come back and let me prove you wrong!'_

Utterly spent, but ready to continue until Sith hell froze over if he had to, Vader prepared himself to unleash another barrage of unrelenting recriminations when he caught the weakest glimpse of a little light, a frightened candlelight that still shone brighter than all the stars in the universe.

Breathlessly, he reached out to it.

 _'Come back. You have my word that I will never hurt you. I'll leave and you'll never see me again, I swear it. Just come back. Please, my son. Come back to us.'_

The faint light throbbed shyly, feebly, beautifully. Vader wished to embrace that little light to him and never let go, but he knew he had to hold back, he had to wait for it, beckon it closer, make it _want_ to stay.

 _'Don't go, my boy. Believe me for once. Come back. Come back and stay. Stay, STAY! ...Please.'_

Something pushed him out of the trance he'd fallen under. Moaning at the separation, he struggled to open his eyes. They felt heavy as lead.

When he did, he could only see a blurry grayish blob before him.

Trying it harder, he moved back until his back touched something flat and unyielding. He sighed out loud, swallowing the dry lump in his throat.

"He's alive," a stranger's voice stated.

"Of course he is," he replied, turning his head towards the source of the voice. The blob began to take shape until it coalesced into a lean, grey-haired man, who appeared busy moving around and handling medical devices here and there.

Behind him stood a ghastly pale Princess, holding her hands in front of her, twisting them nervously.

His body awakened to a foreign sensation that swept away the remaining cobwebs in his mind. The feeling of a dead weight leaning on the left side of his body. Shaking his head, he looked down.

His son rested comfortably, stretched out alongside him. His head seemed to have found the only free space on his torso, nestled right below his shoulder plate and next to his chest plate. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and regular.

 _'Alive. Alive!'_ he exclaimed exultantly. He tried to raise his hand, but something had taken hold of his fingers. Looking further down, he saw that his hand was lying palm down on his boy's chest, over his heart, and his fingers were captive... in Luke's own hand.

An aching pain, the likes of which he'd never known before, made him bite his lips and close his eyes to ease the sting behind them.

Unconsciously, he pressed his palm down, looking for the heartbeat... Yes, there it was. A soft, almost imperceptible thud; a thud he would cling to for the rest of his life.

"I don't know what just happened, but I'm glad you did... whatever you did," Vilk turned to Vader, rubbing the back of his neck and doing small motions back and forth with it, as if testing it still worked.

Apparently, the doctor had decided to play it cool, passing over Vader's 'manhandling'.

"How is he?" Vader asked nonchalantly.

"At this point, the fact that he's still alive is a miracle," Vilk didn't beat about the bush. "Aside that, his fever has dropped a little, and that's the first improvement in his condition since... since forever."

Vader nodded.

"I can't tell you what's going to happen next," Vilk levelled with the Sith Lord. "I would advise you to expect the worst at any moment."

"That is simply _not_ an option," Vader left no room for discussion. "He will live."

Vilk's eyes cast Vader a fast look whose meaning was clear as crystal.

"Because I want him to," Vader answered the unspoken, defiant question nevertheless.

A derisively arched eyebrow that said it all was the only comment to the Dark Lord's proud statement.

Leia moved forward then. Her eyes were glued to the broken body in the bed. She stared at it as if she'd finally accepted the inevitable, and it unnerved Vader.

"I suggest we take turns holding him," he instructed the forlorn Princess sternly. "Physical contact is keeping him grounded."

The door closed after doctor Vilk, and they were left alone.

"Do you think it'll do any good?" Leia asked dejectedly.

"YES!" Vader shouted. "You called me because you knew I could be of help. The last thing my son needs is to hear the defeat in your voice."

His words seemed to rouse her from the dark place she'd retreated into. Stark determination returned to her features, hardening them with a well-known expression that Vader was growing to like.

"It won't happen again," she affirmed earnestly.

"Good," Vader nodded heartily.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	7. Chapter 7

The following hours passed largely in silence. Vader didn't move from his sitting position, leaning back against the bed's headboard, with his child lying on his left side and holding on to his hand in a perfect metaphor of his situation.

Leia alternated pacing the room with sitting still beside the bed, looking at the pair on it and getting lost in thought for long periods of time.

Vader also looked at her, wondering at the million different expressions crossing her face, that he was certain she wasn't even aware of.

Her pallor and her physical deterioration were disquieting. His son's illness had taken a great toll on her.

"When did you last sleep?" he asked out of the blue.

The tired brown eyes raised to his, and Vader's insides twisted into a knot.

 _'I don't believe what I'm hearing.'_

 _'I don't know you anymore.'_

Force, those eyes! The same look!

"I don't remember," was the stoic, somewhat apathetic answer.

"You should get some rest," Vader's voice sounded weirdly strained. "He will need you when the time comes."

Leia's lips crooked into a wry smile at that.

"How many hours have you been in that position? I don't think sitting like that is very comfortable for you," she pointed out.

Vader wasn't ready to let go. Most of his body's nerve endings had succumbed to the lava that had devoured him alive on Mustafar, but he still could feel the pressure of his son's weight on his side and on his chest; he felt his warmth, his _presence_ , so real and... physical.

It had been so long since the last time he'd had a warm, living body pressed up to him that the thought of relinquishing... But then, he looked into the evasive dark eyes and understood.

 _'Don't leave me! You're all I've got!'_

 _'Anakin, you're breaking my heart.'_

 _'STOP! STOP NOW, COME BACK! I LOVE YOU!'_

Suddenly shaken by a tremor he didn't want to pass on to his son, Vader steeled himself and moved away deliberately, losing contact with the little body that was his last connection with his humanity. He looked up at the Princess.

"Come here. Take over," he said.

Eagerly, Leia rushed over to Luke's bed and sat down on it the moment Vader carefully stood. She slid across the mattress, holding Luke's upper body to her front, practically cuddling him. Only Luke's hand remained attached to his father, as if he stubbornly refused to let him go.

"Take his hand," the Sith Lord told the Princess, giving the smaller fingers a final parting squeeze.

Leia took it and squeezed it hard in greeting. Her eyes opened like two saucers when a huge gloved hand brushed the hair on top of the soft head in an unmistakable fatherly caress. She looked up at the expressionless mask, for once wanting to see the features beneath, to see what he was feeling.

Then, the memory of Auren's encounter with Anakin Skywalker returned.

 _'He stood up again, put his hand on the boy's head and caressed it, almost in a fatherly manner.'_

And her dream... The handsome young man cupping the vulnerable head of his son in his palm, cradling it like a fragile little bird...

Unthinkingly, she brought her own hand up and combed through the silky strands, resting her cheek on Luke's head and dropping little kisses on his temple and forehead, closing her eyes against the sting of tears.

What was happening to her? What was this feeling blossoming in her heart? Hope? Hope for whom? For Vader? For Luke? For all?

No, she couldn't afford to hope! In their situation, hope could be fatal. NO!

"Help me. Help me!" she whispered into the soft ear in dismay, holding him tight.

And Vader knew he had to get out of there, before... before he'd...

"Is there some place where I can take care of... some personal affairs?" he asked hoarsely.

Leia raised her head and gazed at him interrogatively. Guessing that Vader was using an euphemism, she nodded at a door on the farthest wall of the room.

"There's a small restroom behind that door," she told him.

Vader looked in the appointed direction and nodded. Hands closed at his sides, he turned around and strode into the little room like a thunderstorm. Once inside, he released weeks of bottled up emotions smashing his right fist into the wall, making a hole the size of his hand in it.

 _'Something wonderful has happened. Ani, I'm pregnant.'_

 _'This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life.'_

 _'Our baby is a blessing.'_

 _'I love you, and I love our baby. I will love you both forever.'_

 _'I won't lose you the way I lost my mother.'_

 _'I am your father.'_

 _'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO!'_

 _'Luke.'_

 _'Father.'_

 _'Son, come with me.'_

 _'He'll annihilate us all, Leia!'_

 _'In his eyes, the fact that you're here only means that in his weakness he betrayed us all.'_

 _'I want to die.'_

 _'I WANT TO DIE!'_

 _'Congratulations. You killed him.'_

 _'Come back and stay. Stay, STAY! ...Please.'_

The Sith Lord snapped back into reality when he realized he couldn't breathe. His respirator was supplying his hyperventilating lungs with massive quantities of oxygen, but it couldn't catch up with his urgent need of it. He gasped over and over, on the verge of passing out.

 _'Be calm. Be calm! Take it easy. One breath at a time. One breath at a time.'_

 _'You found me.'_

 _'He felt he was endangering the Alliance just by being alive.'_

 _'I will not hurt you.'_

 _'I'm doing it for you. To protect you.'_

 _'But at what cost? You're a good person, don't do this!'_

The sound of a body hitting the floor startled the wits out of him, but when he looked around he saw _himself_ on his knees on the tiled floor.

He stayed there, wheezing and panting for breath, fighting for control until the shocking episode passed. Then, mechanically, unemotionally, he rose to his feet, ruthlessly drowning every feeling, every memory, every attempt of his conscience to keep on causing him pain.

And now that he had pulled himself together, there was something that had to be done.

Reaching into a hidden compartment in his belt, he drew out a small communications device. He activated it and rigged it to transmit.

"Admiral Piett, you will carry out the following orders _to the letter_. I want you to assemble a heavily armed assault force."

* * *

Leia was rocking Luke's body in her arms when the Sith Lord emerged, looking chillingly self-assured, unstoppable in his purpose. The Princess's blood ran cold at the fearsome sight.

Yet, on seeing the two defenseless youths, the cyborg's demeanour transformed in a matter of seconds. His intimidating bulk hunched over slightly in a gesture that spoke volumes.

The two stared at each other for a minute, and then Vader sat down in the chair beside his son's bed without a word. Aloof, reserved, but at the same time radiating a yearning that Leia couldn't begin to figure out.

An hour later, Dr. Vilk paid them another visit. Bending forward in his seat menacingly, Vader watched everything he did like a Noonian hawk.

Knowing he was the target of the Imperial's undivided attention, Vilk proceeded with extra caution while examining Luke's vitals.

"His temperature's dropped another degree," he announced. "If this progression continues, I'll have the cooling blankets removed by morning."

The Princess' shuddering breath was painful to hear. It hurt to hear the hope in that sigh.

"I'll have a nurse bring you the dinner you didn't have when you should."

Leia glared at him, but Vilk didn't relent. He understood her reticence to indulge in front of the Commander of the Imperial Fleet _and_ the galaxy's official butcher. But if she'd had her motives to invite him over - and he respected that even if those motives escaped him - then he had his own to force her to eat.

Drilling Leia with a glare of his own, he left.

The Dark Lord could guess why the Princess was so averse to eating in his presence. Bespin was still too fresh in her mind. After a second's consideration, he stood.

"I will come back after you have eaten," he said.

His eyes strayed to his child on his way to the door and when he was about to reach it he did a double take. Luke's head was following him. Not only that, his eyes were open; just barely, but they _were_ open.

He froze on the spot and turned to the bed slowly, almost fearing it was an illusion. Then, he took a couple hesitant steps towards it.

Confused by his actions, Leia looked down at the bundle in her arms. Her heart skipped a beat of joy when she saw what Vader was seeing. Luke's half-open eyes were set on his father, but he didn't acknowledge him in any way. His face was an unreadable mask, much like Vader's.

A growing feeling of unease made the Sith Lord take the final step, until he was right at the foot of his son's bed. He returned the intense staring, and something told him that his child was as aware of his eyes as he was of his.

"You're here," the boy was the first to break the silence in a raspy, almost inaudible voice.

Chills ran up and down Vader's spine just hearing those words.

"Yes," he confirmed.

Luke tried to swallow to clear his throat, but it was too dry. He coughed, groaning at the pain that shot through him.

"Have you c-come to finish what... you st-tarted in Cloud City?"

The capitulation and despondency in his tone cut deep, very deep.

"I have come to see you," Vader enunciated as softly as he could.

The incredibly expressive eyebrows drew together, conveying a million different emotions that Vader couldn't begin to unravel.

"Why?"

Vader could tell that his son was looking for a sign. But a sign of what? What did those fathomless eyes want from him?

"Because you need to recover," he stated emphatically. A part of him cringed inside, somehow knowing that he had failed.

Sorrow, melancholy, bitterness... All those feelings and more crossed the beautiful, breathtaking eyes, sunken in their sockets. Closing them in what looked dangerously like giving up, the child moved his head away, burrowing into Leia for comfort.

"We... shouldn't expect the impossible," he whispered with finality.

Driven by a sudden force that seized control of his limbs, Vader walked up to his son's bedside and stood there; commanding, overwhelming... inescapable.

"Why not?" he asked daringly. "I got _exactly_ what I wanted."

The lifeless eyes turned to look at him, and in them Vader saw a quiver of fear at having him so near.

"And w-what is that?" Luke breathed, exhausted.

The Dark Lord squatted down to his child's eye level. Tilting his head, he spoke with a passion he hadn't known in decades.

"You."

Luke stared at him searchingly, looking so frail, so lost... A small shudder passed through his thin frame, and his eyes closed again.

Alarmed, Vader's mind sought his son's, trying to ascertain if he had merely fallen asleep or lost consciousness.

"Is he all right?" Leia asked as if she expected him to know better than anyone.

"Yes," he replied a few seconds later. The boy hadn't lost consciousness, but he wasn't sleeping either. He was somewhere halfway between sleep and unconsciousness. Wherever he was, Vader hoped it was a peaceful place.

A nurse rolled in carrying a tray with food. She put it on the table closest to Luke's bed and addressed Leia with just one word.

"Eat."

The Princess and the Dark Lord exchanged a wordless glance. Vader nodded assent at her.

With the utmost care, Leia slid out from behind Luke and held him up for Vader.

As soon as he had his son in his arms again, a jolt of sensation stabbed at the Sith Lord from everywhere at once, making him feel dazed and light-headed. The weak head lolled until it found a resting place in the crook of his arm. Vader looked down at it and experienced an irrepressible desire to cover it with caresses. His hand came within a hair's breath of touching it, but it stopped when a fleeting spasm of pain crossed the sleeping face.

 _"What is happening to you?"_ he wondered, unaware he'd spoken aloud.

On hearing that, Leia stiffened and turned around, confronting him with bloodshot eyes.

"My goodness, you really have no clue, do you?" she exploded, looking daggers at him. "You don't know why this illness is consuming him, what brought him to this state? You truly have no idea why your son is dying?!" She appeared genuinely scandalized.

Vader witnessed the Princess' outburst totally floored by the outrage in her voice and the seething anger in her eyes.

"You don't understand that he's been dying since that ill-fated day, when the person who should love him the most committed the worst crime _any_ being can commit against another," she trembled with revulsion. "You not only mutilated his body, you killed his spirit, you destroyed his most cherished dream – the dream of becoming the man his dead father could be proud of," she snorted disdainfully and her voice lowered an octave. "You really don't understand how much he loves you, do you?" tears of helplessness brimmed in Leia's eyes, as if she'd just lost whatever faith in him she had.

She stormed off to the table with her snack, sat down and slammed the food dome on it with a loud clang.

Thunderstruck by the young woman's tirade that battered against every misconception, every false assumption he had made about the child in his arms, Vader felt as if his insides had been wrenched out.

Her words had taken away from him every pretext, every justification he'd ever invented to condone the things he'd done, the moral corruption he had embraced.

His respirator started supplying him with extra doses of oxygen once again, as he fought to take in everything he had been told, everything he should have known all along.

 _'He... loves me?!'_ The blinders finally fell off. He had found the missing piece of the puzzle that explained... _everything_. At long last, everything made sense.

His eyes fixed on the singular, precious life that he'd helped to create.

 _'You love me?!'_ he asked, the very concept too unimaginable to believe. _'Is that what your eyes were telling me on Bespin and I failed to see? That behind that bravado, that defiant attitude, your evident desire to prove yourself in front of a Dark Lord of the Sith, you were avenging your long lost father? Someone who deserted you before you were even born? Is that what you were doing?'_

 _'You're here.'_

 _'Why?'_

 _'We shouldn't expect the impossible.'_

 _'Is that the sign you were looking for? A sign that I... care? Is that why you're dying, my child? Because you think I'm going to... That I don't... That I couldn't possibly...?'_

Luke inhaled a painful breath and another shudder ran through his feeble body.

And Vader felt that pain, his son's indescribable suffering, down to the marrow of his bones.

His hand started to move with exquisite care, coming closer and closer, until it was millimetres away from the sleeping face. On an impulse he brought it down, and this time nothing stopped him from touching the indrawn cheek, the dauntingly protruding cheekbone. Mesmerized by the sight of his own hand touching another in gentleness, there was no stopping him now. His fingers glided all over the paper-thin, achingly soft skin, ignoring the fact that he could almost feel the bones beneath.

None of that mattered.

 _'Look at him, Padme. Isn't he perfect?'_ he sighed inwardly. For the first time, the memory of his wife didn't bring with it the excruciating pain it used to. _'Did you get to see his face? Did you get to feel him like I do? Did you imagine he would become the exceptional young man he is? Are you as proud of him as I am?'_

Unable to hold back, Vader's fingers were possessed. Something had been unleashed within him, and that throbbing need only grew stronger with every caress. He slid the tips of his gloved fingers all over the wide forehead, the lovely ear, revelling in the unmarred grace of every feature.

A tiny wail escaped the cracked lips and instinctually, Vader pressed his forefinger to them.

"Shhhh," he murmured. "It's all right."

And to his eternal wonderment, Luke quieted.

 _'Force, what is this?'_ Vader had forgotten the last time he had felt like this. It was overpowering, it was terrifying... It was sublime.

His hand trailed into the dishevelled hair and he sank his fingers in it, stroking it endlessly.

 _'I won't hurt you. I will never hurt you, my son. Sleep in peace now. You're safe. Nothing will ever hurt you, little one.'_

Vader didn't notice at first, but he eventually felt a slow, almost lethargic movement below the cooling blankets covering his child. He sharpened his senses, trying to find out what it was.

All of a sudden, he felt a slight touch on the hand that held his son to him. He looked to see what it was, and his heart almost stopped.

Weakly, shakily, Luke's hand had moved up in his sleep, seeking. Gingerly, he grasped the tips of Vader's fingers at the same time as he curled into a foetal position, snuggling up to his father's warmth.

 _'Force! Oh, Force!'_ Vader bit his lower lip and looked up imploringly, feeling his body burst into flames. But unlike decades ago, this fire didn't burn him. This fire was bringing him back from someplace dead and cold, from a stinking void where his damned soul had wandered without meaning, without purpose.

He gazed down at the needful hand clinging to him for dear life and with a shiver, he surrendered himself to the roaring need that cried out for completion with this heavenly child who, just by existing, was dragging him out of the very bowels of hell. He splayed the lax fingers apart and intertwined them with his own. He wrapped himself around his son, shouting the same words desperately over and over.

 _'Save me. Save me. SAVE ME. SAVE ME! SAVE ME!'_

* * *

Leia washed down the last mouthful of her dinner with the last sip of water in her glass. She was still fuming inside but deep down, she acknowledged the fact that there was nothing to be done. She had been a fool in the first place for even considering that a... soulless machine was the solution. Mad at herself for _ever_ believing in a foolish, childish dream, she pushed back her chair and began to rise...

...and stopped dead cold at the scene before her.

Luke had moved into a foetal position and Vader's body had draped itself around him in a warm cocoon, almost a protective shield.

Speechless, the Princess didn't dare to blink, lest her eyes were deceiving her.

It was the most bizarre and the most mind-blowingly beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She couldn't take her eyes off them. Her heart hammered against her ribcage over and over, insistently reminding her that she wasn't imagining it.

And just staring at them, just feeling the emotions that the image stirred inside her, something told her that Luke's true healing had finally begun.

* * *

Time passed, but no one kept track of it. Leia just stared and stared, her mind reeling with so many possibilities that she was alternately dazzled by them and fearful of the danger of giving in to them.

"You should retire," Vader's deep voice broke the silence like a thunder.

"I know," Leia said, after recovering from the start he'd given her. "I..." she cleared her throat. "I always sleep next to him."

"I have seen the bed," Vader nodded at the small piece of furniture nearby. "But you know now that I will never hurt him."

The Princess and the Sith Lord crossed gazes. And Leia yielded to the evidence.

"Yes, I know," she conceded. "Don't ask me why, but I know."

"The same way you knew you had to call for me. Through the Force," Vader explained enigmatically.

Leia raised a sarcastic eyebrow and cocked her head to one side dismissively.

"Yeah, I guess so... huh?" she straightened up when Vader's words sank in.

"You are Force-sensitive," Vader stated impassively.

"W-what are you talking about?" Leia asked, mystified.

"I am saying that your dormant Force abilities have awakened."

Far from being reassured, Vader's composure was unnerving to the Princess.

"Wait a minute. Are you saying t-that... that I have... that I'm like Luke?" she recoiled, almost defensively.

"Precisely," Vader inclined his head in the affirmative.

Petrified, Leia's eyes skittered all over the room; her thoughts going too fast for her to keep up with them.

"T-that's impossible!" she mumbled at last.

The Dark Lord's mouth twisted into an ironic grimace at the familiar words.

"How can it be?!" the agitated eyes demanded an explanation.

"Did you ever have an irrational, outlandish feeling that ended up being proved correct?" Vader asked.

"Who hasn't?" Leia shrugged expectantly.

Vader admitted the truth of her answer. He tried a different approach.

"Have you ever felt, just looking at someone, that they weren't to be trusted or they carried a secret pain... something that was _impossible_ for you to know?"

Leia opened her mouth to deny it, but something stopped her. The spark of an old, unformed sensation, an odd stir in the pit of her stomach. Nothing specific, but very powerful nonetheless.

Vader continued, knowing he was getting through to her.

"Moments when you felt as though you were hearing other people's thoughts?"

All colour disappeared from Leia's face.

"Visions of actual events? Dreams?" Vader pushed. "Dreams that you knew were different? Dreams that were too real to be brushed aside as mere figments of your subconscious?"

Leia sat absolutely still, rigid like a board - her eyes lost in the distance.

"I- I heard Luke calling out for me when we were leaving in the Falcon," she whispered, as if from a trance.

"Then you're stronger in the Force than I thought," Vader couldn't hide the admiration in his voice. "To hear another Force user calling out for help with no training is... I would dare to say unparallelled."

Leia roused herself out of her reverie and focused all her attention on the Sith Lord.

"Was... Was that the Force?" she asked, almost childlike.

"Yes."

The Princess swallowed hard and looked away, trying to gather her thoughts.

"I... didn't know."

Vader didn't say anything. He remained silent, giving her time to come to terms with what she was.

Sometime later, her eyes looked for his, and in them Vader saw a million questions begging to be answered.

"What do I do now? How can I control this? Does it mean I'm going to keep having...?"

Vader raised a hand.

"I will answer all your questions..."

Leia's eyes opened wide in expectation.

"...tomorrow. Now you will retire and sleep."

The young woman's eyes closed into tiny slits, both in frustration and suspicion.

"I don't require as much sleep as you do," Vader felt it was time to admit to some vulnerability if he wanted to gain her trust, or some semblance of it. "And you _will_ know the moment something happens."

Was the Dark Lord asking her to trust him? Leia had the distinct impression that that was what he was doing; at least some part of him. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure she could trust him. Not after a lifetime of atrocities.

 _'I love you so much, Daddy! Don't go. Please, don't go again!'_

 _'Never! I'll never leave you, my baby.'_

Leia shuddered at the abrupt flashback that pulled at her heartstrings in a way that was almost scary. She winced at the raw need little Luke had projected in her dream; a dream that seemed bent on coming back to haunt her.

But... hadn't his father's need felt _just_ as raw?

Did that mean Vader also...?

"You need some time alone with him, don't you?" she asked, stricken by how _precise_ her own insight felt.

Vader didn't move. He simply stayed as he was, returning her stare, holding his son in his arms like a timeless - if also spooky - representation of Fatherhood.

She stood to her feet, shrouded in dignity.

"I'll come back first thing in the morning," she headed for the door without looking back.

"Thank you," a low voice said right before the door opened before her.

Leia stopped for a moment, nodded once without turning, and left.

* * *

Alone with his thoughts, the Dark Lord remained still, wondering how he'd come to find himself in his current situation, and fighting the million mixed feelings churning inside him like a cauldron over a fire.

The weight of his son's body beckoned him like the gravity of a star gone nova, so sweet and fulfilling that his very soul hurt with the effortless pain that just thinking about the boy evoked in him.

Tired of resisting, Vader looked down at the sleeping form, curled up to him in the most primordial instinct known to man. The instinct for survival.

 _'How do you do it?'_ Vader asked. _'How do you make me feel like this? It's like... Like you're my sanctuary. The shelter my soul has craved for and I could never find with anyone. Being with you gives me the only thing that eluded me all my life. Peace.'_ He looked down at the huddled young man in his lap. _'And I want to give that to you too. I want to be your shelter. I want to give you back everything I took away. I want to do everything for you. I want...'_ he closed his eyes and threw his head back. _'I need you to forgive me. I want... the impossible.'_

A dark veil of resignation and regret settled in his spirit. His soul was already doomed. It had been forfeit since the first innocent life he took, since the instant he'd renounced his beliefs and principles and embraced Evil in all its manifestations.

There was no salvation for him, but there was one thing he could ensure. A new hope for the galaxy, in the form of this pure child he'd defiled and he would restore to his friends and the Alliance, no matter what the cost.

 _'You will live, my son. You will live to be a source of light and guidance for all those who follow you. For all those who came before you and gave their lives to keep you safe in any way. For my mother. For your mother. For the man that I once was.'_

The Dark Lord wrapped his arms more securely around his offspring, covered the smaller hand whose fingers were still intertwined with his own with the other, and holding his child as close as his suit allowed, abandoned himself to the realm of sleep, feeling human for the first time in over twenty years.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	8. Chapter 8

_'Father! Father, don't go! I need you! Please. PLEASE! I NEED YOU!'_

Vader opened his eyes and straightened up, immediately reacquainting himself with his surroundings. He was in the medical frigate of the Rebel Alliance, in his son's isolation chamber where he'd spent the night, holding the boy in his arms.

Gasping with a start, he looked down, and the image that greeted his eyes brought a sigh of relief out of him.

Luke slept quietly in the same position he'd been in all night, all cuddled up to him, his only hand ensconced between his father's bigger ones. Some colour had returned to his face and Vader sighed again, closing his eyes with a nod.

Just then, Luke stirred a little, drawing his attention like a shot. The young man made himself more comfortable against him and promptly stilled again.

Unable to help himself, Vader shook his head and brought the hand that covered his child's to the soft cheek, stroking it down delicately.

 _'Whatever happens, I'm glad to be here with you. Where I belong.'_

His features softened beneath the mask at the thought, and he rejoiced in the freedom he had to indulge in something he should have done decades ago.

The long lashes flickered at his touch, and in a sudden bout of self-consciousness, Vader's hand returned to its original position, covering Luke's.

Sobering, he stared at the wall directly ahead, a part of him wondering what time it was. Somehow, he knew he had slept longer than usual.

The feeling that he was being observed, made him look down again, and his heart missed a beat.

Two big light eyes were riveted on him, and the solemn expression on his son's face made it impossible to look away.

Vader tipped his head to the left, making it easier for the boy to look at him, hoping he would understand he meant no harm. Not now; not _ever_ again.

"You're still here," an edge of wistfulness seeped from the hoarse voice.

"Yes." Something in Vader reached out to the silent plea in those beautiful orbs that only he could see. "Do you want me here?" he asked quietly.

Luke's eyes lowered at that, and the boy bit his lower lip. Taking in a shaky breath, he nodded timidly.

The big hand didn't hesitate this time. The strong fingers combed softly through the silken hair, brushing the bangs aside. Time and again and again... never wanting to stop.

"Then, I'll stay."

Luke's eyes sought his as if seeking confirmation of his words, and in them Vader saw an infinite weariness coupled with... longing?

Nodding, the Dark Lord caressed the broad forehead.

"You're tired," he whispered. "Rest now. Rest... and heal," he grazed his fingertips over the thin eyelids, closing them tenderly. "Sleep, little one."

Seconds later, Luke was fast asleep.

And Vader's heart overflowed with contentment.

* * *

Soon after, the door opened and a refreshed-looking and very resolute Princess walked in.

"How is he?" she asked without preamble, going straight for Luke's bed.

"Sleeping," Vader informed her, taking in her more informal attire. Light brown bottoms and a white, round-necked top. Her hair was braided in a single plait that reached below her waist.

Leia stroked the pale cheek with the backs of her fingers, needing to reconnect with the young man she so loved. She noticed right away that he had some colour in his face.

"He doesn't seem to have moved all night," she observed.

"He hasn't," Vader said, leaning back against the headboard. "He woke up a few minutes ago but was sleeping again in seconds."

Leia nodded.

"At least, his fever has dropped some more," she sighed, relieved.

Vader watched her as she took a seat in the chair closest to the bed. Definitely, a good night's rest had been good for her. There was still an unhealthy pallor to her skin and dark circles under her eyes, but there was also a liveliness to her bearing and a spark to her spirit that had been absent before.

Feeling more relaxed and alert than she'd felt in days, Leia also did her share of unobtrusive observation.

In many ways, she couldn't believe what she was seeing; but she couldn't deny the truth that lay before her eyes either. Darth Vader, holding Luke Skywalker in his arms.

A Dark Lord. An Imperial. A mortal enemy. But also a Father.

A sharp beeping sound broke the stillness of the moment. Startled, Leia pricked her ears to locate the source of the sound. It came from... from Vader's _armour_?

The Dark Lord stiffened visibly. He'd been so wrapped up in his son that he had forgotten completely about the transmitter! Blast it! Blast it to Sith hell!

He had to think fast if he didn't want to blow the only chance he would ever get to win the Princess' trust.

He looked down pointedly at his belt where the sound was coming from, and then turned to the young woman watching him like a hawk.

"My suit needs some critical adjustments," the imperturbable calmness in his statement surprised even him. "If you will excuse me..." Vader looked down at the young man that had slept curled up to him all night, slender fingers deeply intertwined with his own, and felt like his flesh was being torn open at the thought of letting go.

Away from Luke's arms lay the abyss. Madness. Eternal damnation.

Grinding his teeth, he held his son away from him, shuddering at the gradual separation.

He felt the Princess' eagerness at the unexpected joy of holding Luke again, and trusting that need to distract her from any suspicions she might harbour, he moved aside and stood for the first time in many hours.

A passing dizziness made him stop halfway from the small restroom. He reached out to the door and it opened enticingly, almost luring him in.

He walked inside and leaned on the sink instinctively, slowly catching his breath. When he felt better he looked up, fixing his gaze on the hole he'd punched in the wall the day before.

The insistent beeping sound was so annoying that he slapped open the hidden pouch in his belt. He reached inside and produced the tiny communications device, activating it with his thumb. Seconds later, Piett's voice reported to his superior officer.

"Mission accomplished, Lord Vader. We encountered fierce resistance, but it was useless against our troops. What are your orders?"

A deliberate, assertive smile curved the Sith Lord's mouth.

Excellent.

* * *

Fully composed once more, Vader exited the restroom to find Dr. Vilk checking his son's vitals and reassessing his medical condition. The Princess stood at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed, waiting patiently.

Vader walked up to the young woman and stood next to her, letting the doctor do his job. Finally, Vilk straightened up and turned to them, raising an already arched eyebrow on seeing them standing side by side.

"Well, doctor?" Leia asked.

Vilk scratched his head in an unconscious gesture of confusion.

"I don't know what kind of magic you're weaving here, but please, don't stop," he shook his head in wonder. "His fever's dropped enough now, so it's safe to remove the cooling blankets. I'm going to order a blood culture to find out if he's finally fighting back the infection. I would venture to say he is; his colour is better today," he raised his eyes and met Leia's. "Things are beginning to look good. _Beginning_ , mind you," he emphasized. "We all know how unpredictable his illness has been."

Leia nodded assent, but deep down something told her it was safe to hope.

"Also," Vilk continued, "it's time to change his bedding and wash him up. If you'll come with me, the nurses will take care of that at once," he put out his arm, clearly intending to escort them out of the room.

As one, Leia and Vader looked at one another, identical thoughts in mind. Both reluctant to leave the person they so cared about in the efficient, but also cold and unfeeling hands of robot nurses.

Vilk stared at them, blown away by the fact that he could tell exactly what they were thinking. The Princess he could understand, but Vader?

 _Vader?_

"He'll be treated gently, with the utmost dignity and respect," he assured them.

The Princess and the Sith Lord gave each other one last fast look, and seemed to accept it, albeit less than enthusiastically.

* * *

Leia sat with her ankles crossed in the waiting room, hands entwined and tapping her thumbs together nervously. She couldn't wait to get back inside. Every minute away from Luke killed her with the agony of not knowing how he was, of not seeing him with her own eyes.

Vader paced back and forth, his cape billowing behind him as he moved. He was a mass of barely controlled emotion on the verge of exploding.

When the door opened, Leia was on her feet and Vader made his way from the other side of the room in a fraction of a second. The nurses rolled out and the last one made her announcement with a chirp.

"You can get in now."

They needed no further prompting. Leia rushed in, followed closely by Vader.

Luke lay in bed covered up to mid-chest, looking warm and comfortable. He wore a flimsy white gown and his appearance was soft, fresh and neat; even his hair seemed blonder and fluffier - almost an invitation to run one's fingers through it.

Vader and Leia studied him avidly, both seeing signs of improvement but not wanting to get their hopes too high. They looked at each other and nodded in silent agreement.

Leia started for the bed, clearly intending to sit and hold him first. When she was reaching down to Luke, she stopped in mid-gesture and looked up at Vader, hesitating for a moment.

Vader raised one hand in acceptance, and headed for the nearest chair instead.

When she had the young man in her arms again, Leia began to run her fingers through the blond strands over and over. It was an irresistible temptation, and she gave in to it willingly.

"He smells good," she commented out of the blue. She didn't know what made her say that. There had been something about his smell before that had given her the creeps on a very primal level. Like the smell of death closing in.

Vader nodded, as if he knew what she meant by that.

"He's at peace," he stated.

Leia turned her eyes to him.

"How do you know?"

Vader returned her stare.

"Through the Force."

The Princess made an exasperated face.

"I can imagine, but _how_ do you feel that? How can you tell the difference between then and now?"

Vader made a pondering pause.

"Close your eyes," he finally said.

Leia threw him an apprehensive look, but ended up complying.

"Good," Vader approved. "Now try to clear your mind from any outside stimuli. Just concentrate on your inner self."

"All right," Leia did her best to focus inwards, using the weight of Luke's body against her as an anchor.

Vader reached out tentatively, just enough to sense if she was doing it right.

"Hey!" her eyes burst open, startling the Sith Lord. "Don't you dare to use your Dark Side power thing on me, you hear me?"

Vader rolled his eyes.

"This is basic Force training. _All_ Force users must do these exercises if they want to master the most elemental techniques."

"Oh," Leia cooled off as fast as she'd heated up. "Fine, then." She closed her eyes again and tried to find some measure of calm.

"Take your time," Vader said, knowing that after her brief outburst she would need several extra seconds to collect herself.

It took over a minute, but Vader felt, through her respiration and the outward signs her body was giving off, that she was managing a modicum of concentration.

"Now," he tried to keep his voice casual and intense at the same time, "reach out. Just reach out to him. Breathe deeply and try to touch his aura, the warmth that lingers around him. It won't harm you. Open yourself to him and..."

"Fear," the Princess suddenly blurted out. "I feel fear. Fear... Conflict and... and... hope," her voice broke on the word. "And longing... Such longing for you! Oh, it's so beautiful! So much love! So _much_ love!" Luke's emotions swept her away like a tide and tears gathered behind her eyes.

The sound of the door sliding open snapped Leia out of her light trance. The tears spilled helplessly, falling on the blond head like raindrops.

A nurse rolled in carrying a tray with a sandwich and a juice. Clearly a midday snack.

"Doctor's orders," she said to the young woman.

Leia couldn't even look at her as she left. She was crushed by the onslaught of Luke's emotions. She'd never met anyone with such boundless capacity to feel. But then, she didn't have anyone to compare it to, outside herself.

It was frightening. To feel so much. To need so much. To love so much. How could Luke stand it?

Vader had been right to a certain extent. There was peace there indeed, but beneath the surface lay a landscape of layered emotions that painted the most complex, breathtaking picture.

Fear of his father and the lethal threat he posed. Fear of his feelings for him and the weakness they represented. Desperate longing for his father's tenderness. Hope for his father's redemption... It all blended into this mosaic of interwoven emotions that were impossible to tell apart. Fear of hoping. Need to hope. Fear of needing. Need to be needed...

But everything _paled_ in comparison with the glorious, transcendent, _sacred_ feeling that shone in the essence of Luke's being.

LOVE. Love beyond her experience. Immeasurable love for her, for his friends, for _all_. Absolute, unconditional love for his father. Love as a way of life. Love as the touchstone of his moral universe. Love as the beginning and the end of all things.

She felt so unworthy, so ugly in the face of such innocent beauty, of such purity of character...

Luke was a pure, old soul in a world of war, evil and cowardly cynicism.

So frail and vulnerable; and yet unbreakable, indestructible.

Incorruptible.

That's where Luke's ultimate sense of peace came from. From the intimate knowledge of his own faults, of his oh-so-human needs. Of knowing exactly who and what he was, and accepting it.

The price he'd paid for that peace had almost cost him his life - and still could - but Luke had found himself at last.

Leia's eyes turned to her beloved friend's father.

Would Vader ever measure up to the man and the Jedi his son had become? What hope was there for Vader?

She didn't have to reach out and touch _his_ aura to know the answer to both questions.

For all his power and knowledge in the Force, Vader was pathetically limited. Maybe that was the main difference between the good and the bad sides of the Force. Between the Light and the Dark. The Dark saw everything in black and white, with maybe some grey thrown into the mix. The Light was _all_ about colours, shades and hues. Vader's entanglement in the Dark Side blinded him to the million nuances that made Luke Skywalker the creature of sheer Light he was.

Vader would never know because he would never allow himself to see, to touch, to embrace the promise of _salvation_ that Luke offered just by existing.

It hurt so much to know that Luke would never get the dearest thing to his heart! All that healing love inside and...

She shook her head resignedly.

 _'I'm sorry, Luke. I'm so sorry!'_

"Will you hold him while I'm having that?" she asked Vader brusquely, nodding in the direction of her sandwich.

"Yes," Vader rose from his chair, and Leia thought she detected some uneasiness in his tone.

She could guess why. And maybe... Maybe that was the right course of action. To keep them in close physical contact. Force Vader to accept the truth of what his child was and let Luke's soothing influence permeate his father's being. She had no faith in Vader whatsoever, but Luke deserved every chance she could give him.

She slid out from behind her sleeping angel and held him up for Vader. The Sith Lord sat down on the bed and slid in carefully, holding the thin body in a grip that was anything but heartfelt.

Vader's cruel withdrawal hit Leia like a punch in the stomach, and anger boiled in her like molten lava. In any other circumstance, she would have exploded and damn the consequences; instead, she bit her lips in a superhuman display of self-control and walked stiffly to the table.

She ate her sandwich with calculated slowness, making use of her diplomatic skills that so useful had been in the past.

 _'Something good will come out of this. Something good will come out of this,'_ she chanted like a mantra. _'It has to. It has to!'_

She wiped her mouth with the napkin and turned about in her seat, deep in thought.

"Do you want to take over?" Vader was quick to ask.

"What's the matter?" she snapped indignantly. "Are you tired of holding your child already?" she glowered at him. "Don't worry, he won't hurt you. He wouldn't even if he could." In seconds, she went from angry to caustic, to bitter. "He's easier to hurt than to love, isn't he?" she accused harshly. "Easier to maim."

Something in Vader stirred on hearing that. Something dark, _very_ dark and beastly.

"Watch yourself," he growled.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve, _milord_?" Leia goaded relentlessly, matching his anger with her own. "Did you enjoy mutilating him? Raping his mind? Trying to turn him into you?"

Vader's body tensed like a bowstring, milliseconds away from lashing out...

"Leia... No."

And that weak, broken voice cut through the dark fog of fury and violence, dissolving it like snow in the sunlight.

Vader and Leia glared at each other, unwilling to be the first to back down.

"Anger is not the way," the shaky voice reminded them both. "Hate is never the answer."

Torn apart by those words she'd always known were true, but Vader had somehow managed to make her forget, the Princess turned her eyes to the pale, anguished face that looked at her imploringly.

"How can you be so forgiving, Luke?" her question came out more like a reproach. "How can you ignore everything he's done, everything he *is*, and still have so much hope in him?"

The saddest, most poignant smile illuminated the exhausted features.

"He's here, Leia. He came," he took in a laboured breath. "It's enough."

Leia shook her head, in saddened wonder.

"You deserve so much more," she practically sobbed.

Luke blinked back tears.

"Don't give up on his soul. He's fighting to break free, and one day he will," the faintest smile appeared on his cracked lips. "And I need to be there to see it with my own eyes."

The plea in those striking blue depths, so sweet and loving, were Leia's undoing once more.

"All right, Luke," she conceded with a sour sigh. "All right," she made a grimace and looked away, distinctly irked and frustrated.

Luke took a few more laboured breaths and moved his head back slightly, looking up at the man who'd sired him.

"You can let me go, if you want," he invited his father with a plaintive smile. Feeling that the collected moisture was about to slide down the corner of his eye, he looked down swiftly, staring at the white bedcovers. The tear rolled languidly down his cheek, unnoticed.

Vader closed his eyes and swallowed the hard lump in his throat. Taking a few deep breaths of his own, he focused all his energy on finding his calm centre again. Automatically, his senses zeroed in on his son, concentrating on him until the boy's presence surrounded him in an almost tangible manner. He found himself wrapped in a soft, fragrant bubble of quietude, and the roaring of the beast became a distant howling far, far away.

He swallowed again and looked down at the gentle young man who, even now, still had the courage to defend him in front of the one closest to him.

Why? What did Luke see in him? Didn't he know by now there was nothing left of the person he'd been once? Where did all that faith come from?

Force, those eyes regarded him with such trust, such absolute acceptance... They made him want to do _anything_ to... to...

"No, I won't let you go," he swam in those all-encompassing pools of emotion. His hand glided over his son's chest, feeling the sharp ribs move under his palm. He placed it right on the centre and pressed down a little. "Take slow, deep breaths. It'll help."

The boy stared at him as if he was experiencing a whooshing moment of deja vu. Vader nodded and brought his other hand to the wet cheek, wiping away the tear track that Luke had unknowingly left exposed. The young man blinked a few times and turned his face into his father's palm in gratitude. Then, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Vader studied his sleeping child for a while, unable to take his eyes off him. Finally, when he was convinced that Luke was merely taking another restorative doze, he leaned back and heaved a long sigh.

Leia observed him in disbelief, incapable of figuring him out. One moment it seemed he was taking his first baby steps back into compassion and kindness, and the next he reverted back to the heartless murderer of countless lives; cold and callous. And the next...

It was insane.

An unbidden thought crossed her mind then. Could it be that she was also blinded? Blinded by her resentment and... - who was she trying to fool? - and by her downright _hatred_ for him? That she couldn't see past the pain they had all endured at his hands?

Could it be that she was also trapped in her own private hell? That she was a prisoner of her own intransigence? Of her adamant refusal to give him even the benefit of the doubt?

One thing she was certain of. She was _sick_ of second-guessing herself, of being persuaded to give Vader what he had NEVER given anyone.

Silence stretched out until the door opened and Dr. Vilk walked in.

The thick tension in the room gave the older man pause for a second, but immediately remembering the reason that had brought him there, he shrugged it off and began his examination. With just one look, a wide smile lit up his features.

"Yes, about time!" he exclaimed.

"What? What is it?" Leia bent forward in her seat, trying to guess what the doctor had seen.

Vilk pointed at the bag attached to the lower side of Luke's bed. It was almost half-full with a yellowish liquid.

"His kidneys are working again. This is without question the BEST news since he fell ill," his sparkling eyes brought a grin to Leia's lips. "His other failing organs should start coming back online too," he nodded assuredly. "The culture results will come in a few hours, but I don't need them to know that his body is finally fighting back."

Leia gasped out loud with immense joy and relief. Her eyes sought Vader's naturally, but the Dark Lord gave no outward sign of emotion. He just sat there, impassively; indifferent to what the doctor's words actually meant for Luke. His reaction, or lack of it, felt like a slap in the face and she scowled at him with utter loathing.

Impervious to the situation unfolding before him, Vilk continued his examination.

"His fever dropped half a degree since the last time," he announced. "Things are getting better and better."

Leia nodded to herself and fixed her attention on a point above Luke's bed, waiting for the doctor to finish.

"Well!" Vilk straightened up at last and turned to the Princess. "He's definitely improving. I can make no promises but he's recovering, that's undeniable." He turned to Vader. "The next few hours will be critical. If his improvement continues, his possibilities will rise exponentially."

"Thank you, doctor," Leia breathed most sincerely.

Vilk's head turned from Vader to Leia, and his expression hardened.

"That's why I strongly suggest you two to put your differences aside, as you have been doing so far. This young man here deserves every chance we can give him, and I don't want to risk that because you can't be civil with each other. Is that clear?"

Vilk's fiery eyes jolted Leia out of her angry haze. Berating herself for letting Vader's attitude get to her, she met the good doctor's stare with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Yes, doctor. He's all that matters, now and always."

"I concur," Vader agreed.

"Glad to know that's settled," Vilk was determined to keep his composure. "I'll come back later in the evening to see how he goes," he turned and headed for the door. "Oh, by the way," he turned back to Leia with an ironic expression on his face, "Dr. Senna sends her best wishes and happiness that he's getting better. In case you've forgotten about her." And with a curt nod, he left.

Once alone, Vader and Leia turned their heads to each other and reached a tacit truce without saying a word. Leia leaned back in her chair, shutting out the Sith Lord as if he wasn't in the room. Vader also made a point of ignoring the Princess, and focused his senses on his sleeping child, alert to every minute change in him.

As minutes ticked by, the Dark Lord sneaked occasional glances at the stubborn woman sitting two metres in front of him. Outspoken, headstrong, inflexible, ferociously loyal and protective... She reminded him so much of another life... of a young man just as unyielding, just as possessive, just as self-righteous...

There were so many things he wanted to tell her... But he knew he would sound hypocritical and insincere. Everything that came from him would fall on deaf ears. He could see that her own attitude was hurting her, preventing her from seeing beyond... But there was nothing he could do. Only hope that one day, Luke would break through that shell and help her.

His eyes turned then to his child. The boy stirred a little, trying to turn onto his side, but he was too weak so he gave up after a couple attempts. He winced in his sleep.

"Shhh, it is all right," Vader hushed quietly, rubbing his chest comfortingly. Just the fact that Luke was trying to move around meant he was beginning to get his strength back. He brought his other hand to the light head and started to comb through the satin strands and massage the scalp, swept away by the flash of an ancient memory.

It worked. After a few seconds, Luke's restless movements stopped and he relaxed against him.

A little smile softened Vader's features. After running a very high fever for days, he knew the constant headache must have been unbearable, so any massage that alleviated the lingering soreness had to feel like heaven.

It took so little to make Luke feel better... Why couldn't he...? Why didn't he...?

The Princess was right. It was easier to hurt than to nurture. It was easier to destroy than to build. It was easier to hate than to love.

This child was both his torment and his consolation. He wanted to escape him, to put as much distance as possible between them... and he couldn't bear the thought of being separated from him again.

Force, what was he going to do?

On her part, Leia struggled in a morass of conflicting emotions. She was infinitely tired, at the very end of her rope.

She was losing control, and that made her feel at a disadvantage. Having Vader around drove her mad. He was an ominous presence, dangerous beyond anyone's imaginings, and to crown it all, she was getting mixed vibes from him which drove her up the wall.

She had completely forgotten about poor Auren, the one who'd stuck with her through thick and thin from the beginning. The only support she'd had during those nightmarish days when Luke's health had spiralled down at full throttle. The one who'd inspired her to do the unthinkable. She'd dismissed her as if the many hours spent at Luke's bedside meant nothing.

It infuriated her to have her mistakes and blunders thrown in her face before the galaxy's greatest criminal. It undermined her authority and her position.

So much loneliness, so much mistrust, so much anger...

She couldn't take it anymore. She was grasping at straws and the smallest provocation would send her over the edge.

She had a quick light lunch and then sat again in the chair that had become her safe vantage point, her lair... from which she observed Vader's small tender gestures toward his son, that only increased her confusion and lack of understanding of what was truly happening beneath that grotesque mask.

A couple hours passed thus; the simmering rage and animosity building up like a volcano.

A beeping sound, coming from outside the room broke the tense atmosphere. Seconds later, doctor Vilk's voice echoed in the room.

"Excuse me, your highness," he sounded all business through the intercom. "Commander Quincy insists on speaking to you. He says it's urgent. Do you want me to open a channel to your private quarters?" he asked with a knowing inflection in his voice.

Leia was instantly on full alert. The proverbial other shoe had just dropped.

"Not necessary, doctor. Patch him through," she fixed her steely gaze on Vader's still form as she spoke with deceptive calm.

"Yes, your highness," the communication was closed and another was opened almost immediately.

"Princess Leia?" Quincy's tone was deadly serious.

"Yes, Commander, what is it?" Leia responded in kind, preparing herself for what he was going to say.

"An Imperial shuttle is heading straight toward us," he made a brief pause to let the information sink in. "Our long-range scanners don't detect any other Imperial ships, but considering the fact that no one knows where we are..."

"I'm on my way, Commander!" Leia rose from her chair like a predator – slow and menacing. She hunched forward and pierced Vader with eyes that burned with hate and betrayal. "What did you do?" she snarled, grinding her teeth.

Unfazed, Vader looked up at her nonchalantly.

"Before jumping to conclusions, why don't you go and see for yourself what is actually happening?" he suggested.

Leia bared her teeth, hissing like a snake. The time bomb went off.

"Damn you," she gnarled breathlessly. "Damn you to hell, you double-crossing bastard!" she spat, turning and leaving the room at a run. She met doctor Vilk on the other side, who was coming in to find out what was going on. "Get in there and stay until I return!" she ordered him without looking back.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	9. Chapter 9

The sprint to the hangar deck seemed to take forever. Leia's mind imploded with awful thoughts, each one worse than the last. From the conviction that the shuttle was the advance unit of the Imperial Fleet to the Emperor himself, who was coming to take Luke away, thanks to Vader's impeccable inside job.

Thanks to her. Her fault. Her fault! And all because she'd allowed herself to be swept away by foolish dreams of fatherly love conquering everything and stupid fantasies of redemption... Fool. FOOL!

When she made it to the hangar, she encountered the same young lieutenant who'd been there when Vader's shuttle had arrived.

"Your highness..." he greeted her, puzzled to see her there again.

"Call a security squadron on the double!" she ordered in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

Caught by surprise, the young man quickly sobered and ran off.

Frozen in place, Leia stood where she was, swallowing convulsively and willing her racing heartbeat to calm down. This was a potential life and death situation and she had to act accordingly, like the leader of the Rebellion that she was.

She focused on clearing her mind from all the disturbing thoughts that assaulted her, and concentrated on what had to be done. She started to take slow and steady breaths, until her respiration was back to normal. She blinked and looked out. A tiny white object was becoming visible in the distance, heading straight for the medical frigate. She set her jaw and braced herself for what was coming.

Soon enough, she heard doors opening behind her and the loud sound of boots thumping on the deck. Feeling oddly comforted by that sound, she stood firmer and watched the white object getting bigger and bigger as it approached. Its triangular shape became unmistakable as it sailed smoothly through space.

Half a minute later, it grew _too_ big and Leia's heart pounded in her chest helplessly. Finally, it cleared the entrance to the hangar, folding its wings upward and landing next to Vader's shuttle.

Leia moved back a few paces, signalling the squadron to ready their weapons.

Almost on cue, the ramp deployed and she heard footsteps inside the ship. Then, several forms emerged from the darkness and began to walk down.

The giant hairy creature that preceded the other two noticed right away that something was amiss. His massive paws tightened on his crossbow while he turned his head to her and growled a question.

Petrified beyond reason, beyond belief, the Princess stared at the image before her.

Chewie.

 _Chewie._

What was the meaning of this? The last time she'd heard from him – and Lando – was a few weeks ago, when they'd sent a transmission informing her that they'd been scouting the perimeter of Jabba's palace looking for a way to get inside, and finding none.

Why were they returning now? Stunned, she looked past the Wookiee to the two men who followed him. The second one was Lando, who walked down the ramp unhurriedly escorting... Escorting...

Her heart skipped the most painful beat at the sight of him, and a disbelieving sob escaped her throat.

It couldn't be. It couldn't... It couldn't be!

"Han," she moaned, unable to believe her eyes.

The captain of the Millenium Falcon walked a bit unsteadily, as if he didn't trust his sense of balance, or his eyesight. When his feet touched the deck he raised his head and arched his eyebrows at the _reception_ that awaited them.

"This is what I call _a_ _warm welcome_ ," he commented in his usual sardonic manner, looking in the squadron's direction. Then, his eyes turned to Leia, and his features and demeanour softened the moment he saw her. He stared at her with naked adoration, undoubtedly remembering the last time they'd looked into each other's eyes, knowing it could very well be the last. "Hello, your worship," he greeted her in his usual insolent style that didn't fool anyone this time. "Long time no see."

And those were the words that broke the Princess. With a whimpering cry, she rushed forward just as he reached out to her, and they fell into each other's arms.

Leia buried her face in Han's chest, weeping openly and clinging to his broad back for dear life. His familiar scent invaded her senses and she almost collapsed with the joy that suffused her being.

The cocky smuggler smiled happily, tightening his hold on the small body, cupping her head in his hand and pressing it closer. He brought his head down and kissed the beautiful dark hair time and again as he caressed her back in circles, trying to soothe her shaking form.

"Hey, it's all right," he whispered to her. "I'm here, honey. I'm right here," he shook her a little, in an attempt to reassure them both.

Leia sniffled and rubbed her face against his shirt with a choked laugh. Then, reluctantly, she moved back and looked into his eyes.

Han returned her look, devouring the lovely countenance that had filled his thoughts in those endless weeks spent 'in perfect hibernation,' but somehow still trapped in the prison of his own mind. His lovestruck expression gave way to one of alarm and worry when he noticed the dark rings under her eyes, her paleness and the devastating effects the past two and a half months had had on her.

He moved back and looked at her up and down, noticing her severe weight loss for the first time. His nostrils flared.

On her part, Leia smiled at his healthy look. Reaching up, she framed his cheek in her hand and caressed it with her thumb, as if convincing herself that he was really there.

Han bent down and kissed her lips passionately, hungrily, desperate to connect again with her in body and soul. Leia returned the kiss with the same passion and hunger, but also with a lingering sadness that the young man could taste like a bitter poison consuming her from within.

They drew back. Han took her face between his hands gently and wiped her tears away, determined to get an answer.

"What's happening?" he asked. "What's the welcoming committee doing here?" he nodded in the armed squadron's direction, right in front of them.

"Oh, my!" Leia exclaimed. She had totally forgotten about them. She half-turned and addressed the stumped men with a strained but kind tone of voice. "You can leave now. Thank you," she dismissed them with a wan smile.

The armed group left with curt nods. They'd pretty much assumed their services wouldn't be needed the moment they'd seen the passengers of the shuttle.

But Han's questions wouldn't be dismissed to easily.

"Leia, what's going on?" he insisted. "What happened to you?" he caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, his concern apparent.

Leia shook her head.

"I could ask you the same thing," she smiled up at him, soaking up his touch.

Movement behind him made her acknowledge Lando and Chewie's presence, who'd respectfully stayed back, allowing them to reunite in private. She smiled at them with unfeigned joy and reached out one hand to them.

"Lando, Chewie, I'm so glad to see you!"

Grinning, Lando approached them, followed by the strangely shy Wookiee. Lando held her hand and kissed it gallantly, always the old smoothie.

"We're _glad_ to be back." Something in his eyes cried out that something really big had transpired.

Chewie came forward and took her small hand between his paws, shaking it softly but intensely.

"The last time I heard from you, you were trying to infiltrate Jabba's palace," Leia looked from Lando to the Wookiee and back.

"And that's what we were doing yesterday afternoon," Lando began their story. "Seeing there was no way to sneak in, we decided to change tactics. I would get a job as a guard, a cook, an exotic dancer, whatever they needed, and inform Chewie periodically of the palace's routine," he cast a swift glance at the Wookiee, who nodded emphatically. "We were almost at the palace's gates when all hell broke loose."

"What happened?" Leia prompted him.

"The Empire happened," Han cut in.

Leia whipped her head to Han, eyes popping open.

"WHAT?!"

"In the blink of an eye, we were surrounded by hundreds of stormtroopers - and I do mean _hundreds_ \- carrying heavy weaponry and enough explosives to level the Galactic Senate," Lando continued. "They seemed ready to start a war. They arrested us and took us aside while they burst into the palace." He stopped for a moment to catch his breath.

Leia stared at Lando, unable to believe what she was hearing. With every turn of events he described, more and more questions kept popping into her mind.

"We began to hear sounds of blaster fire and explosions. It didn't stop for over five minutes," Lando was nearing the end of his tale. "Finally, after an explosion that shook the ground, they took us away to the Desert Plain where they had their ships," he looked at Chewie again for support. The Wookiee let out a soft growl and nodded. "We thought that now that the job was done, they'd execute us on the spot or make us disappear somehow. So, picture our faces when right in the middle of two dozen troopers we see this good ol' pirate, alive and well!" he gave Han an affectionate elbow-nudge.

Han gave him his patented lopsided grin, and turned to Leia with a flippant shrug.

"What can I say? I'm a galactic treasure," he boasted teasingly. "All I remember is falling to the floor in total darkness and being dragged away pretty rudely; and the sound of a hundred voices crying out: _'Go, go, go! The place is going to blow!'_ " he shared his side of the story with the Princess. "Bad poetry I know, but boy were they right! The explosion literally lifted us off our feet!" he made a short theatrical pause and continued. "They had to guide me in the trip through the desert 'cause I was quite blind."

Leia understood now his little problem walking down the ramp. He'd been too long in hibernation and his vision still wasn't up to par.

As if he'd read her mind, Han looked down at her and nodded.

"My peripheral vision is a bit blurry and my eyes take longer than usual to adjust from dark to light and from light to dark. Otherwise, I'm fine. 85% fine, I would say," he smiled at her. "Just give me a few hours more."

Leia sighed in relief. She took hold of his hand and squeezed it.

"And how did you end up in an Imperial shuttle?" she asked them.

"That's when things get weird," Han made an exaggerated face.

"Weirder still?" Leia widened her eyes in pretended shock.

"One of the guys in command seemed to take for granted that we'd be taken away to be judged for crimes against the Empire, or executed right then and there and left to rot in the desert – more or less what we all assumed," he looked somberly at Chewie and Lando, who nodded assent at his words. "But his assumption was quickly proved wrong by an older guy, the real brains of the operation. He reminded Mr. Hothead that their orders were to put us in a shuttle and leave us to our own devices, unscathed."

"A really heated discussion followed," Lando took over then, "but in the end, they allowed us to board one of their crafts and we took off, wondering why we were alive and where those orders came from."

Leia turned and looked at the hangar doors, suspecting where those orders came from... and why. She bit her lower lip and swallowed hard, realizing the huge mistake she'd made. Yes, she had _every reason_ to distrust Vader, but since he'd come aboard he'd behaved nothing short of honourably. Without a doubt, this final gesture was his way to undo what he'd done on Bespin and convince her of... what? That he was willing to _change_? Unfortunately, he would have to do A LOT more to convince her of that.

But it was a beginning, and she was grateful beyond words.

"Hey, sweetheart, are you listening?"

Han's voice startled her and she turned back to her beloved.

"Yes, yes," she nodded distractedly. She fixed her eyes on the handsome face. "So, Jabba's palace is..."

"Destroyed," Lando summarized. "All that's left of it is a mountain of smoking rubble. The Empire is nothing if not thorough."

Leia looked down deep in thought, and nodded slowly.

Han, Lando and Chewie exchanged knowing looks. They could feel that something was very wrong, but they also knew that Leia would tell them in her own good time. The Corellian reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it fondly, hoping to bring her back from wherever she was.

"Aren't you going to ask us how we found you?" he smiled at her patiently.

"Oh, yeah!" Leia's eyes sparkled lively once more as she gave them all her attention. "How did you know where we were?"

"After making sure there were no homing beacons within or without the ship," Han began, "we set a course to rendezvous with the Fleet. When we met them, they informed us that you had unilaterally decided to set off on your own. Fortunately, your escorts were there and they were able to tell us your approximate trajectory. It was very strange, because it looked like you were preparing to leave the galaxy, but we chose to continue... and here we are!" he finished with a flourish.

Leia smiled wistfully, dreading the moment. Now it was her turn to explain herself.

How to start? What to say? Would they ever understand what she had done, and why? Would they consider her a traitor, like a part of herself did?

Seeing that she had paled in seconds, Han exchanged the fastest look with his friends and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"You know you can tell us anything, right?" he took her chin in his hand and raised it to meet his eyes.

Leia bit her lips again nervously. Her brown eyes brimmed with tears.

Han planted himself in front of her and took her by the shoulders.

"Leia, what's happening here? Have you been sick? A plague of some kind?"

The tears fell and she shook her head heavily.

Feeling his heart break, Han wiped her tears away.

"I know about Luke," he spoke in a broken voice. He wanted to spare her having to tell him. "Lando and Chewie told me what Vader did to him," he gritted his teeth in anger.

Leia shook her head again dejectedly.

"You don't know half of it, Han," she choked out. "You have no idea." Her eyes strayed over to the second shuttle helplessly.

Han followed her look. Yes, it had puzzled them to see a second Imperial shuttle in the hangar, but they had dismissed it. Maybe it was a lost Imperial crew they'd captured along the way. But now it took on an entirely new relevance. Chills went up and down his spine and he straightened up.

"Who's here?" he asked dangerously in the lowest voice.

And looking into his eyes, seeing the fierce protectiveness in them, unwavering and solid like a rock, Leia felt her own strength returning.

Straightening up as well with a deep intake of breath, she pulled herself together. She grasped his forearms and brought them down, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them hard.

"Come," she invited them all. "Let's go someplace private where we can talk. There's something that you must know."

* * *

Vilk paced the room back and forth anxiously. It had been one hour already since the Princess left. He'd guessed that nothing serious had happened when no alarms had gone off, that's why he didn't understand the young woman's prolongued absence. It had to be something very important to keep her from her dear friend's bedside for so long. Besides, being in Darth Vader's presence for an entire hour wasn't his favourite pastime.

To be honest, what unnerved him the most was the Sith Lord's aplomb. There he was, sitting in young Skywalker's bed, holding him in his arms like a doting parent as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and totally oblivious to everything else.

Finally, tired of expending energy, he leaned back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling with a sigh.

"Do you have any idea of what's going on?" he asked, breaking the ice.

"Nothing to be concerned about, I assure you," was Vader's unflappable reply.

Vilk rolled his eyes. He'd already reckoned that. Back to ceiling-staring.

Suddenly, the door opened and Princess Leia walked in; strong, confident, looking refreshed, as if a great weight had been removed from her shoulders.

"How is he?" she asked them both, heading straight for Luke's bed.

"He's doing well," Vilk said, walking up to her. "He was sleeping the whole time."

Leia gazed down at the sleeping youth, smiling with such an adoring, smitten expression that Vilk had to look away. She reached down and stroked the prominent cheekbone to her heart's content.

Luke stirred in his father's arms and turned his face a little as if seeking her touch. Leia sniffed softly.

"You can go now, doctor. Thank you for staying, even though it wasn't necessary," she met Vader's eyes for a second and nodded imperceptibly to him.

"It's good to know," Vilk smirked sarcastically. "But before I go, let me tell you the results of the culture."

Vader and Leia gave him their undivided attention. He grinned widely.

"The infection is receding. He's fighting back."

The atmosphere in the room lightened considerably, as if a black veil had been lifted from everyone's spirits.

And Vader knew in the deepest part of him what the doctor's news truly meant.

The Light had won. The Dark Side had just been defeated with Luke's survival.

And he didn't regret it one bit.

He looked down at the child he'd sired, sleeping soundly, innocently, and closed his eyes against the stabbing pain – and fear - that seized his body.

Because he knew that Palpatine would _never_ stop until he destroyed the greatest threat to his regime, to the Darkness, to _him_. He would use _any and every_ means at his disposal to wipe out the Jedi from the galaxy as he'd done once.

If he wanted to ensure Luke's safety, he would have to destroy Palpatine first.

And that meant leaving Luke. To protect him.

The mere notion... It hurt. It hurt like nothing _ever_ had before.

A shaking hand buried itself in the lush hair and caressed the scalp, seeking comfort as much as giving it.

 _'You will be all right, my son. No one will hurt you again. I'll kill him with my own hands, I will rip his guts out! But he won't lay a finger on you. He won't defile your soul like he did mine. I promise you!'_

The door closed after Vilk and a heartbeat later, a small hand appeared in his line of vision.

Vader looked up and saw the Princess reaching out her hand to him, her intention clear.

Tipping his head to one side, he reached out his own hand and shook the proffered one solemnly.

"Thank you for what you've done," the young woman's voice sounded profoundly sincere.

"I take it that Captain Solo, Calrissian and the Wookiee have arrived," he accepted her gratitude with a nod and released the little hand carefully.

Leia nodded back at him.

"I told them everything. They left to shower and change," she reached out once more and played with the fluffy blond hair poignantly. "I did my best to prepare them for... but words can never convey..." she sighed. "They'll be here any minute now."

"Do you want me to leave?" Vader offered.

"No," she put out her hand. "You're his father. You're good for him and they understand that. They'll manage."

"You told them that I am his father?!" Vader's stratospheric respect for her grew even more.

"How could I justify what I've done otherwise?" Leia shrugged self-deprecatingly. "They're his friends. _Nothing_ 's going to change that."

Vader nodded, pleased that his child had such good friends.

"How did they take... your actions?" he inquired gingerly.

"They don't blame me, if that's what you're asking," Leia looked at him straight in the eyes. "Besides, they rather _like_ the idea of having you here," her voice acquired an ominous tone that had the Dark Lord staring at her warily.

The corners of her lips twitched up slightly.

Had the Princess just played a joke on him? It certainly seemed so, and Vader felt something in him thaw at that extraordinary act of trust.

"I see," he remarked drily. "In that case, I want my lightsaber back immediately," he demanded in the same tone she had used.

The Princess' eyes twinkled in amusement.

"In your dreams," she replied insolently.

And with that brief exchange, the war between them was over.

As gently as possible, Vader extricated himself from behind his child. He looked at the Princess and she nodded to him approvingly. When Luke's friends arrived, it should be just Luke in the bed. A private moment between the boy and those closest to him. Nodding back at her, the Sith Lord placed the precious head on the pillow. Luke stirred again at the loss of his father's warmth. Vader moved aside the hair that fell across his forehead with a whispered word.

"Sleep."

And Luke obeyed.

"The way he responds to you, even asleep, is astonishing," Leia said, in wonder.

"I could say the same thing," Vader returned her compliment, retreating a few paces.

Leia looked at him curiously, but just then the door slid open and Han Solo walked in.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: I'm posting chapter ten one day earlier because I won't be home until next Monday and I wouldn't be able to upload it otherwise.

Thank you all. I'll answer all your wonderful reviews as soon as I can.

* * *

The Corellian took in Leia and Vader at a glance, but it was clear that he only had eyes for the fragile young man in the bed. The instant he saw him, his features drew tight and hard, and he paled like a ghost. Leia had tried to warn them but nothing, _nothing_ could have possibly prepared him for the actual _sight_... for the sheer physical devastation...

He approached the bed noiselessly and looked down at the youth he considered the little brother he never had. His eyes reddened and his chin quivered in overwhelming emotion.

"Luke..." he moaned, "oh, my... oh, my..."

His trembling hand reached out and settled on the colourless forehead. He caressed it with untold compassion, reassured by the heat Luke radiated. For a minute, he'd been terrified he would be cold. _Deadly_ cold.

Leia walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it encouragingly.

"Doctor Vilk just told us that the infection is receding. He's recovering, Han. Don't listen to your eyes."

Han nodded in silence, biting his lips to hold back the avalanche of emotions churning inside him. He stood there, stroking the wide forehead, unwilling and unable to stop.

The thin eyelids fluttered and with some effort, the ocean blue eyes opened. They skittered around the room and rested on the newcomer.

"Han?" he murmured, struggling to focus.

"Yeah, kid. It's me," a forced tremulous smile appeared on the handsome face. "It's good to see you."

"Are you... are you really here?" Luke tried to raise his head from the pillow, incredulous.

"You bet," Han's smile widened. "And also Chewie and Lando. They're waiting outside."

A slow, happy grin illuminated the cadaverous features, as the young man convinced himself that he wasn't dreaming.

"But how can it be?" he asked his best friend wonderingly.

Han gave him a quirky smile.

"It's a long story," he looked up at Vader, standing a few metres away, and his expression sobered. "But it seems your Lordship here was the mastermind in the shadows."

Luke's eyes opened wider in surprise and he turned his head heavily toward his father.

"Did you do it?" he asked him in awe.

Vader shrugged matter-of-factly.

The glassy eyes misted over. A shaky, unsteady hand reached out.

"Come here," Luke requested feebly.

And Vader covered the distance separating them in four long strides.

The young man grasped his father's hand and squeezed it as hard as he could.

"Thank you," the tears spilled, uncontrollable. "Thank you so much!" he tried to intertwine their fingers but the muscles in his hand wouldn't cooperate.

Vader held the fumbling hand steady and interlaced his fingers with his child's. Bending over the supine form, he hastily wiped the tears away.

"You're welcome," he replied in a patronizing tone of voice that earned a soft attempt at laughter from the boy. That and the mind-tickle that only Luke could feel.

The glowing blue eyes moved all over the masked face earnestly, as if they couldn't have enough of looking at it.

"Father..." Nothing in Luke's life had tasted sweeter than that word. He savoured it in his mouth like a blessing. Like an impossible dream come true.

A sharp pain, sharper than the finest dagger sinking into his flesh, sliced through Vader's heart.

How could a word so small have such power? It was ripping him open. It was reshaping him, redefining him, shining the brightest light on his destiny and giving him a new purpose. A reason to be.

Those otherworldly, ethereal eyes. They looked at him with such rapture, with such... reverence. How could _anyone_ , let alone Luke, look at him like that?

Those eyes encompassed a universe of completeness and belonging, they were a mirror that didn't hurt to look into, for the image they reflected was one of total acceptance and self-worth. The look in those eyes was heaven incarnated.

He felt he had been waiting his whole life to see himself reflected in those eyes.

He had been waiting his whole life to hear that one word. From Luke's lips and only his.

 _'I'll do anything for you, my son. I'll shield you with my body, with my blood, with my soul. I'll make of this galaxy a safer place for you, so you never have to fear for your life again. Just to see you looking at me like that, and never again in disgust, horror or disappointment. The agony you suffered at my hands will not be in vain. I'll spend the rest of my life honouring your sacrifice, trying to be worthy of you and your faith in me. This is my oath to you, angel of my heart.'_

Luke's eyes roamed Vader's mask tirelessly, softer than the softest caress. And for the first time since Bespin, the Sith Lord felt him touch the Force - weakly, falteringly. And the Force responded by wrapping itself around him like a protective blanket, invigorating, exhilarating.

Even now, Luke reached out to him uncertainly, like a little boy holding out his hand in supplication. The clean innocence, the raw, piercing need he projected, cut through Vader's defenses, penetrating deep, _too_ deep.

Recoiling instinctively in self-preservation, Vader drew back physically as well. He stood straight with a harsh, deep breath, startling the young man in the bed.

Quickly composing himself, Vader squeezed the bony fingers entwined with his own one last time and released them. Then, he laid the unresisting hand back on the bed and looked up.

Solo stared at him as if he had grown another head. He could have knocked him down with the proverbial feather. On her part, the Princess looked halfway between self-conscious and disenchanted, as if she had seen what had really happened there.

And somehow, Vader knew she had.

Avoiding her eyes, he concentrated again on his child. Luke had withdrawn into himself, pulling himself together as best as he could.

 _'This must **never** happen again. You just promised you'd never hurt him, and you already have. Keep a calculated distance from him if you have to, but never, NEVER do that again! **Never** , ever again!'_

Reaching out, Vader clasped the now fisted hand in his again and caressed the backs of his child's fingers soothingly.

"Try to not exert yourself. It's _too much, too soon_."

The timid, reserved eyes observed him gravely, and Vader knew his son had gotten the hidden meaning behind his words. He nodded slowly and stepped back, allowing his fingertips to caress Luke's as they parted.

The young man took a deep breath and blinked to clear his mind. Looking away from his father reluctantly, he turned his eyes to his best friend and utter joy surfaced in them.

"I'm so glad to see you!" he breathed. His eyes sparkled with a childlike glee that had been absent for far too long.

The Corellian squeezed the white-clad shoulder.

"Unfortunately, kid, this time you only look strong enough to pull the ears off a Kegan mosquito."

Helpless laughter burst from the broken chest, that soon turned into a fit of coughing.

"Finish me off once and for all, will you?" he wheezed out in between coughs.

"Naah," Han shook his head. "I'll leave that to Chewie," he ruffled the blond hair gently.

Luke smiled up at him in delight.

"Well!" Han exclaimed exuberantly. "I'll tell the guys to come in now. You need all the rest you can get and all this excitement is counterproductive."

"Never," Luke replied with a sigh of utter contentment.

Smiling back at the happy countenance, Han stroked the sunken cheek.

"Get well soon, you hear me?" he ordered with mock-severity.

"I promise," Luke nodded, looking at him in the eyes.

Han nodded back and brought his hand down. He turned to leave, but when he saw Vader standing there, tall, imposing... something in him snapped. Straightening up to his full height that still was twenty centimetres shorter than the Sith Lord, he strode up to him.

He glared at his mortal enemy fearlessly, defiantly, memories flooding his mind. Memories of Vader striking down Ben Kenobi and Luke's heartbreaking cry of horror; Vader, almost blowing up Luke's X-Wing in the trench of the Death Star; Vader, staring impassively, like a true psychopath, while he was being tortured just for the sake of being tortured in Cloud City; Vader, giving the order for him to be put in carbonite... Each and every one of his memories of Vader were memories of murder and destruction; merciless acts of violence and unspeakable cruelty.

But the most unthinkable thing of all was... that his real name was Anakin Skywalker.

Anakin Skywalker. The Hero With No Fear.

Even as a ten year old kid growing up the way he had, the name of Anakin Skywalker was known to him. An inspirational figure to look up to. Brave, noble, compassionate. An upright, down to earth young man who'd seen too much of the ugliness that lurked in the darkest reaches of the human heart, and still fought for what was just, protecting the innocent and doing the impossible to keep them safe in the middle of a galactic war.

And in the end, it all had come down to... _this_.

Turning against everything he'd ever upheld. Corrupt to the marrow. Evil to the core.

Mutilating his own child, desecrating his body and his spirit and driving him to this state of absolute consumption...

He wanted to launch himself at Vader's throat and snuff the life out of him.

And yet... What he'd just seen...

Vader, holding Luke's hand in his own, interlacing their fingers and wiping his tears away. Teasing him and caressing him.

Vader, having him freed from Jabba's clutches; having him, Chewie and Lando put in a shuttle, and escaping the Empire.

Leia's story made even less sense. Her desperate transmission informing Vader of Luke's imminent death, and Vader leaving everything behind to come to his son's side.

And what was that nonsense about Leia being strong in the Force too? And her dream of Luke as a little boy crying in the desert, and his loving father showing up to take him with him – the dream that had persuaded her to risk everything on the slim chance that...?

From his point of view, all this was pure insanity. How could _anyone_ trust Vader's black soul and still believe he wouldn't bring about their undoing?

 _'So, you got your reward and you're just leaving then?'_

 _'That's right, yeah. I got some old debts I got to pay off with this stuff. Even if I didn't, you don't think I'd be fool enough to stick around here, do you? Why don't you come with us? You're pretty good in a fight. I could use you.'_

 _'Come on! Why don't you take a look around? You know what's about to happen, what they're up against. They could use a good pilot like you. You're turning your back on them.'_

 _'What good's a reward if you ain't around to use it? Besides, attacking that battle station ain't my idea of courage. It's more like suicide.'_

 _'All right. Well, take care of yourself, Han. I guess that's what you're best at, isn't it?'_

The sudden flash of that old memory made him pause. He blinked.

He'd also let Luke down, he'd also been selfish and left; but the kid had already planted the seed that would bring him back to help.

 _'I knew you'd come back! I just knew it!'_

Luke had always been a good judge of character, the best he'd ever known. And seeing him look at Vader a few minutes ago... So openly, so trustingly, baring his heart to his father with no fear, with no reservations. Letting him look into his own naked soul, in all his vulnerability...

Was Luke seeing something beneath that mask that none of them could see?

He studied the dark form trying to read his body language, trying to figure him out and make a decision.

His right hand reached out with no conscious thought on his part.

Vader looked down at the outstretched hand in utter disbelief. Was this cynical space pirate ready to accept him, and all for his son's sake? The man he'd tortured and had encased in carbonite less than three months ago?

Luke's friends were truly exceptional.

His own hand moved and the two enemies saluted each other formally.

"Don't you _ever_ dare to hurt him again," the young man hissed through clenched teeth, "or I'll drive that fancy lightsaber of yours through your heart."

"I promise on my soul," was Vader's dignified response to the threat.

The Corellian's eyes turned to slits.

"Assuming you have it," he grunted viciously.

Vader almost barked a laugh at that.

"Oh, I do have it, Solo," he countered with a great deal of self-mocking irony. "Cursed, unredeemable, doomed. But I do have it."

The shock of hearing the Sith Lord speak of himself in those terms, accepting the inevitable consequences of his crimes not only to the others, but _also_ to himself, was nothing short of bone-chilling.

Vader had always been aware of the price he'd paid for his life choices. He'd _always_ known.

And that blunt admission alone revealed that Anakin Skywalker was still in there - that something was changing in that perfect sheen of darkness.

Slapping on his flawless sabacc face, Han raised a cynical eyebrow and turned about.

"Han," Luke's weak voice called.

The young man promptly came to his friend's bedside.

Luke stared at him with a pained expression, but also one of absolute conviction.

"Even within the blackest soul lies a spark of Light, if it has known love once," he uttered in a broken voice. "There is always hope," his look intensified. "Always."

Han's gaze softened and he put his hand on the thin forearm, patting it softly. With his back safely turned to Vader, he gave the boy his distinctive crooked grin, that was immediately followed by a wink and a fast nod.

Luke's eyes narrowed, and he bit his lower lip to hide the slow smile that began to spread across his face.

"I'll tell Lando and Chewie to not stay long," Han hurried to cover for them. "See you soon, kid."

"Thank you," Luke nodded back at him.

Reaching out and squeezing Leia's hand, the Corellian left the room deliberately.

The Princess made the most of the seconds she had before Lando and the Wookiee walked in by fluffing Luke's pillow and combing through his hair maternally.

"Do you think you'll be able to handle the two of them?" she asked him.

"Single-handedly," was Luke's lame attempt at a joke that made Leia cringe inside nonetheless. She couldn't forget the literal reality of Luke's words.

Luke seemed to realize then the bad taste joke he'd unknowingly made, and waved his only hand to dismiss it.

"It's all right," he whispered to her.

Leia made a sad grimace and nodded at him half-heartedly.

The door opened and Lando entered the room, followed closely by the lanky, towering form of Chewbacca.

If Lando was taken aback by Luke's emaciated look, he gave no outward sign of it. He went straight for his bed with a kindly smile on his face.

"Luke," he greeted him.

"Hey," Luke greeted back, smiling softly at his newest friend. "I'm glad to see you, Lando."

"I'm glad to see you too," Lando squeezed the thin wrist oh-so-lightly, as if afraid it would break. "You really have to stop giving us these health scares, you know. We've had our share of close calls for the next few decades."

"I agree," Luke conceded with a sigh.

Chewie moved closer then and reached out his massive paw. He caressed Luke's hair and scalp with a tenderness that cried out how much he'd come to care about the sick cub in the bed. He mewled softly, soothingly, wishing him all the best and a speedy recovery.

"Thank you, Chewie," Luke smiled up at the gentle giant, moving his head into the caressing paw. "We're all together at last."

Chewie nodded and let go with great reluctance. His eyes turned to Vader and he bared his fangs in a purely visceral reaction. Just like his friends, he had a problem reconciling the Dark Lord's heinous actions in the past with his most recent good deeds.

But he had a deciding advantage over his human friends, even Luke. His Wookiee senses, that he planned to use on Vader to their full extent.

Slowly, leisurely, he walked up to him, enjoying the leverage his greater height provided, and relishing the moment when the Sith Lord had to look up at him.

Just his stance said a lot. There was no trace of aggression or hostility in him. No trace of the fury and blind hate he'd oozed through every corner of his being on Bespin. Even his scent – for there was a very distinct scent beneath all the leather and electronic machinery – was somewhat muskier, with a bitter undercurrent. And beneath it all, buried but still spilling over through the cracks in his emotional armour...

If the muscles around his mouth had allowed him to do it, the Wookiee would have smiled from ear to ear.

 _Oh, yes, Lord Vader. You may be hiding it from your son, from the Princess, from Han and Lando, even from yourself; but there's no deceiving a Wookiee's sense of smell._

Chewie stared down at the impassive Imperial, eating up the moment _and_ Vader's ignorance. He let out a knowing snicker and turned about, feeling the Dark Lord's disconcerted eyes on his back.

Taking cue from the Wookiee's attitude and fast nod, Lando stepped forward and faced Vader. He'd thankfully known him for a brief albeit very intense time. He'd seen him at his worst – or maybe at his best, to get the full scope of all the evil he was capable of - and he was just as flabbergasted by the notion that there was a smidgeon of compassion left in that raging beast.

"I don't know what's going on inside you," he began dispassionately, "but since everyone seems to agree that whatever it is, it's something good, then it's enough for me. And I guess..." he worried at his lips, "I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude for rescuing Han on Tatooine," he threw a concerned glance at Luke. "This young man's the only thing that matters, and if having you here is helping him... Anyway, be welcome," he nodded to himself, as if coming to terms with what he'd just said. He held Vader's gaze for a minute more before he walked away.

Leia stood where she was by Luke's bedside, revelling in the Sith Lord's bewilderment that she could feel even from there. It felt good to have the moral upper hand, but it felt even better to remind someone like Vader of the incredible strength you got from commanding people's loyalty through honour and trust, not terror.

And maybe... Maybe it would also remind Vader of another life, a _better_ life, many years ago.

That thought suddenly reminded _her_ of the debt she'd owed for too many days. She looked down at Luke, always loath to leave his side.

Luke met her eyes, as if he had read her thoughts.

"Go," he smiled up at her. "I'll be fine. And say 'hello' to Dr. Senna from me."

How had he known? How did he _always_ seem to know? Was it his innate goodness? Through the Force? If it _was_ the Force, maybe it would be interesting to learn more about it.

She nodded at him quietly and caressed his cheek one last time. She'd just started for the door when a weak but unfaltering hand brushed hers. She whipped her head back to him.

Luke's eyes bored into hers with a fervour unknown to her.

"Thank you for what you've done," he whispered to her brokenly.

Leia clasped the warm hand in hers and squeezed it.

"Always," she whispered back with the same fervour. She looked up at the others. "Take care of him," she entreated before she left.

Vader came to his son's bedside. The child stared up at him with his big trusting eyes. So sweet, so beautiful.

"You should sleep," he urged the boy. "Staying awake is tiring for you."

"Will you stay with me?"

Force, what's with those words that only twisted that blasted dagger deeper?

A black gloved hand laid down on a scrawny shoulder.

"If you want me to."

Luke nodded guardedly, looking down.

Vader sat on the chair next to his son's bed, never moving his hand away.

Lando and Chewie exchanged a swift look of amazement. Chewie nodded at his friend and headed for the door. Yes, Han had been right in everything he'd told them just before they entered. But he didn't know to what extent.

It was time to tell him.

Feeling like a third wheel, Lando took a seat in a chair a few metres away and studied the scene before him.

Luke's eyes were riveted on his father, full of wonder. Vader's mask returned his child's stare as if it was only the two of them in the room. He brought his hand over and put it on the broad forehead. His thumb caressed the space between the eyebrows.

"Close your eyes," he said.

Luke bit his lip, wanting to do as his father asked, and yet unable to take his eyes off him.

Vader then put his palm over the loving eyes and brushed his son's eyelids closed.

"I said close your eyes," he insisted.

The cracked lips smiled bashfully and relaxed. Vader moved his hand away and nodded when he saw that Luke had obeyed. Not wanting to resist the temptation, he stroked down the pale cheek unhurriedly. As if by magic, the boy was asleep when his fingertips reached the cleft in his chin.

Vader dropped his hand, deep in thought, feeling the dagger twist again.

 _'You have your mother's chin. The same shape...'_ he closed his eyes in remembrance. _'I loved to hold her chin in my hand and get lost in her eyes... She always saw the good in me, she always thought the best of me, despite my all-too-obvious, glaring faults. She always made me feel good about myself, about who and what I was.'_ His eyes opened with effort. _'She gave me peace, the peace I have sought all my life.'_

His forefinger slid over the dry lips, engrossed in his memories.

 _'When I lost her, I lost everything that was good about me. Anakin Skywalker truly died with her,'_ his mourning eyes focused on the sleeping face. _'And now, when you look at me... I see the same non-judgmental eyes, the same unconditional acceptance... I see the same purity that made me feel adequate and worthy,'_ his eyes misted involuntarily with the deep longing that rose within him. _'I want to live in your heart forever. Untouched and safe in your memory.'_ He looked up and held back a sigh. _'Why? Why do you make it seem so easy? Even your friends... Force, how will I be able to give you up? To part from you? When you heal me, you define me... When I belong at your side?'_

His eyes roamed the smooth features, imprinting every small detail of the treasured face in his mind.

 _'My sweet angel!'_ he exclaimed, almost like a prayer. _'Don't hate me for leaving you again. For the first time in my life, I have a purpose. For the first time, I know what must be done. I am the only one who can do it and I will - for you, for the life we could have together and I took away from us.'_ His mouth curved into the ghost of a smile. _'My little miracle; my saviour... My master.'_

The door slid open with a loud hiss, startling the shaken Sith Lord out of his musings. Turning his head, he saw Dr. Vilk walking in, followed by Solo and Chewbacca. The good doctor's eyes looked at his patient with satisfaction.

"I'm glad to see him asleep. I feared so many visits would disturb him," he bent down and began his examination, as careful as ever.

Meanwhile, Han, Lando and Chewie stood at the foot of the bed, a bit apart, waiting patiently for the man to do his job.

Vilk checked the monitors of the machines that kept Luke's organs working. Out of the blue he gave a start of surprise, mouthing "YES!" energetically.

His exuberant gesture of joy had the other four males in the room staring at each other in a circle of confusion. They pretty much guessed that meant good news, and they couldn't wait to know what it was exactly.

Vilk raised his eyes to Vader first.

"All his organs are working again," he announced with a big grin. "Kidneys, liver... everything! We can disconnect the machines now."

The change in the atmosphere in the room was immediate and palpable. Like an electric rush that shook them all.

But the most remarkable thing of all was the difference it made when the machines were disconnected. A low hum no one really paid attention to gradually ceased to be heard, releasing the last remnants of the oppressive feeling that hung in the air.

"What now, doctor?" Vader asked for them all.

"His fever's dropped another degree," Vilk said, "so we'll keep him on antipyretics and antibiotics of broad spectrum to help him along the way. When he's spending more time awake – in one day or two, I reckon – we'll start him on saline solution," his gaze swept all the eyes settled on him. "His prognosis is very promising," he smiled. "Now, I suggest you all get some sleep and let him rest. It'll do you good." He turned and left with an earnest nod.

The small group looked at each other and tentative, joyful smiles appeared on their faces.

"I will stay with him," Vader stated.

"Wait a minute," Han raised his hand in protest, taking a step forward. "Leia told us you've stayed with him since the moment you arrived. There's more of us now and we can take turns watching over him. I see no reason for you to stay night after night."

"I'm his..." Vader caught himself in time. Yes, he was the boy's father, but these people had loved and taken care of his child from day one, whereas all he'd ever done...

Still, his time with Luke would be limited, and the thought of not spending every minute of every day with him was unbearable.

He changed his approach.

"I'm... asking you to let me stay with him."

The three friends were ready for anything coming from the Sith Lord, except for a polite request. Vader's words disarmed them.

They looked at each other, dumbfounded. Despite the vocoder modulating the mechanical voice, they all could hear the _need_ in it.

So human.

 _Too_ human.

Finally, the Corellian spoke for them all.

"Leia will be here any minute. Let her decide."

Silence befell the room, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was more like a timeout during which each of them made his own considerations.

At some point, the door opened and Leia made her entrance. She looked relieved and at peace with herself. She quickly noticed the quiet expectancy they all exuded and looked around.

"Dr. Vilk just told me about Luke," she confirmed with a lively smile.

Han smiled back at her.

"Who's staying with Luke tonight?" he asked without preamble.

Leia's eyes automatically turned to Vader in a reaction that spoke volumes.

"He's better prepared to deal with anything that might arise, whether physically or... emotionally," she defended her standpoint, refraining herself from using the word 'spiritually.' She didn't think they'd quite understand what she meant by that. Blast it, she wasn't sure *she* knew what that meant! Still, she tried. "They're joined in the Force, and he'll be able to tell the slightest disturbance in Luke's condition."

Han tilted his head to one side curiously.

"And just how do you know this?" he asked without a hint of confrontation.

Vader found his openness and willingness to understand refreshing. Indeed, there was _much_ more about this man than met the eye.

Leia walked up to the young man in the bed and stroked his cheekbone.

"I... I can't find the words to explain it. I just _know_ that Luke will never be safer than with him at his side," she cast a perplexed look at Vader, realizing how insane her words had to sound to her friends, but still needing to say them because it was the absolute truth as she felt it.

Han cast a questioning look at Lando and Chewie and ended up shrugging with a long sigh.

"Very well," he conceded, turning his eyes to the woman he loved, "let him stay."

Leia nodded at him with a grateful smile and then turned her head to Vader.

"Dr. Senna would like to visit Luke at our convenience," she began. "Since she doesn't know you're here, would you mind waiting in another room?" she asked.

"Not at all," Vader shook his head. It was a testimony to his son's inherent goodness to make all those he met love him.

Han, Lando and Chewie exchanged another astonished look. The smooth rapport between Leia and the Dark Lord had to be seen to be believed. Chewie nodded to both his friends and himself. To him, it was plain as day that their present civility hadn't been achieved without a tremendous struggle, and a lot of pain.

One by one, Luke's friends filed past his bed and patted him goodnight, not wanting to risk waking him. When he was almost to the door, Han turned around.

"Are you going to bed too?" he asked Leia.

The Princess took a deep breath and cast another fast look at Vader.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Luke will be fine and besides..." she smiled, looking down and reaching for the warm hand lying on the bed, "he'd drag me to bed by the ear if he was awake." Her eyes raised to Vader's, deferring to him for the very first time. "Take care of him," she entreated him.

Speechless, Vader nodded, knowing better than anyone what that small gesture had cost her and how much it meant.

"You have my word," he replied thoughtfully, holding her gaze, hoping she would feel his sincerity.

And apparently she did, because she gave him the ghost of a smile. Then, turning again, she accompanied her friends out of the room.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	11. Chapter 11

When the door closed and absolute silence reigned all around for the first time, Vader simply stood where he was, staring at the wall, his mind a blank.

Eventually he returned to himself and looked down at the helpless being in the bed. He stared and stared, feeling the weirdest feeling of alienation. All of a sudden, he felt terribly awkward, wondering what in Sith hell he was doing there. Faced with the 180-degree turn his life had taken, he didn't recognize himself anymore.

"Are they gone?" a weak voice asked.

And just like that, everything righted itself again. The caring, sleepy eyes looked at him hopefully, and everything he was responded to that primal need.

It had already become second nature to him.

"Seconds ago," he replied.

Luke nodded slowly.

"How long was I asleep?"

"A while," Vader sat down on his chair next to the bed. "And you should go back to sleep again. It'll speed up your healing."

Luke's eyes roamed his mask with such adoration, with such heartfelt joy that there was no mistaking the message they were conveying.

 _Yes, my son, I do care as well._

"It feels good," the boy said.

"What does?" Vader asked hoarsely.

"Being free to open my mind again. Holding up my shields was killing me."

Vader winced inside at those words.

"Let's put the killing thing aside, shall we?" he suggested more harshly than he intended.

Luke got the message and nodded his agreement.

"Are you staying tonight?" he asked conciliatorily.

Force, the look in those eyes...

"I intended to. Unless you'd prefer someone else..." Vader's heart skipped a beat at the thought.

A pained expression crossed the colourless features.

"No, I'd... I do... I... Thank you," the child looked down, biting his lower lip.

Vader saw his own hand reach out and grasp the smaller, warm one. He squeezed it meaningfully.

"Thank *you*," he whispered with a passion he couldn't hold back.

The hopeful eyes turned to his again and Vader felt himself sink into them.

 _Sweet one... I could drown in your eyes so easily..._

"We will be fine... won't we, Father?"

 _So trusting, so poignant._

"Yes," Vader murmured through the lump in his throat. "We will be fine. Always," he brought his other hand forward and covered the now sweaty one in his own. "Always, Luke," he promised.

A little light kindled in the gentle eyes, and Vader saw the boy ponder a lifetime's future in a heartbeat as he gnawed at his lips, considering what he should say.

"What are we gonna do... when I get better?" he finally asked.

Vader admired his son for his neutral way of phrasing his question. But he wasn't prepared to answer it. Not yet. Still, he couldn't bring himself to burst the boy's bubble at so delicate a time.

"I'm sure your friends will have something outrageous in mind," he teased instead, hoping to divert his son's attention away from the subject.

Luke snickered appreciatively at his father's joke.

"That's not really what I meant," his gaze dropped, sobering reluctantly.

"I know," Vader nodded, acknowledging the fact that he was skirting the issue.

Summoning up his courage, Luke faced his father's eyes.

"Then, wh...?"

"I'm staying, Luke," Vader reassured his son fervently, "for the present. Let's not think about anything else. Time will tell," he squeezed the long fingers in his own again for emphasis.

The young man accepted his father's assurance without another word, but the tenseness in his body and his suddenly evasive eyes cried out his need for more.

The hand that covered his child's moved of its on volition, and the Dark Lord turned the lovely face to his.

"What is it, my son?"

The look that surfaced in the boy's eyes moved Vader to the depths of his being. There was fear there, apprehension, uncertainty... hope.

"Have you...?" he began. "Are you going to...?" he took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Which side...?"

Vader realized what his child was trying to say, and his admiration for the guts he showed skyrocketed to new heights.

"I'm on _your_ side, Luke," he didn't let him finish and caressed the drawn cheek with his thumb soothingly. " _Yours_. Now and forever. Rest assured, little one."

And then, Vader did something he'd _never_ done before, with _anyone_. He dropped his shields and reached out to his son. Not with his thoughts, not with his intellect, but with his feelings. With his own naked soul.

 _'Never hurt you. Always honour you.'_

Their eyes bored into each other, piercing through every mask – literal and figurative – every layer, every pretense. And the Sith Lord felt his son's heart miss a joyous beat that left him spiritually spent. His eyes drifted closed and he was sound asleep before the sigh escaped his lips altogether.

Vader didn't move for a very long time. He remained as he was, holding his son's hand and caressing the paper thin skin of his cheek that, for the first time, looked fuller and less pale than normal.

 _'Get well, my child. Don't mind me. I will be fine. I'll be content, just knowing that you are safe.'_

* * *

Bit by bit, the Sith Lord emerged from the unconsciousness of sleep, becoming slowly aware of his surroundings. Not a sound could be heard other than his respirator. As sensation returned to his body, he realized he was sitting in a cramped seat. Curiously, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so comfortable.

Just then, he felt the warmth of an infinitely loving presence close by. A loving presence that was holding his hand. Or was it the other way round?

His eyes popped open and he straightened up in the chair where he'd spent the night.

He was greeted by a pair of affectionate, wide open eyes that watched him slightly amused. He returned the affectionate stare, wondering if his child could feel it.

"I never thought I'd get to see this," the boy whispered thickly.

"That you'd see Darth Vader sleeping?" the Sith Lord asked, somewhat self-consciously.

The child shook his head.

"That I'd see my father sleeping."

A bittersweet feeling tightened Vader's throat.

"Some people would consider it a privilege," he boasted arrogantly to cover it up.

"A frightening privilege," Luke joined in the banter.

"That too," Vader completed the joke, unflappable.

Luke laughed out loud, delighting in their easy rapport.

Vader's heart fluttered in his chest at the beautiful sound. He tilted his head to one side, imprinting the perfect picture into his mind.

So long. So long since...

"You're the first person to watch me sleep in over two decades," he revealed when the sweet laughter died down. Once more, his hand took on a life of its own and headed for the relaxed brow. He stroked it, moving the fluffy bangs aside, and resisting the temptation to play with them.

"Who was the last?" Luke asked in a faraway voice, trying to nuzzle his father's hand.

The saddest expression crossed the older man's features, and he pressed his palm against the side of his son's face.

"Your mother," his voice broke for an instant. Her memory was both his greatest torment and his most precious possession.

Luke cringed, and the look on his face filled with pain. His hand turned in his father's grasp and squeezed the gloved fingers.

"What was she like?" the curiosity in his voice couldn't hide his sudden desperate need to know about the woman who'd given him life.

Vader heaved a long sigh that released a lifetime of bottled up grief that would never leave him. He looked up, fighting the memories that threatened to crush him and embracing them at the same time.

"She was exquisitely beautiful," the words started to flow before he could stop them. "Long, dark, wavy hair, the colour of Ossus honey. Brown, exotic eyes that looked deep into my soul. Straight nose, full lips. Petite... Perfect."

Luke's eyes skimmed over his father's mask, reading every nuance hidden from prying eyes, but not his own.

"What was her name?" he asked in the tiniest voice.

The Sith Lord took in a deep breath. This would be the first time he would speak her name out loud in twenty two years.

"Padme," the word flowed from his lips like the blessing it was. "Padme Amidala, Queen and Senator of the planet Naboo."

Luke gasped in shock.

" _Queen_? My mother was a Queen _and_ a Senator?"

Vader nodded, lost in thought.

"The brightest politician I ever knew. One who truly cared about the people she had sworn to serve." He snorted mockingly. "The very antithesis of politics. Educated, refined, sophisticated; a queen in every meaning of the word..."

The image Vader's description painted in the eye of the young man's mind seemed to take the wind out of his sails. He looked down, deflated.

"I didn't take much after her..." he smiled self-deprecatingly, "other than her height."

Vader's touch intensified in a flash. Not the _touch_ itself, but its warmth, the impassioned earnestness he projected through it.

"You took after her in _everything_ , my child," he enunciated blazingly. "In everything that matters. Her uncanny capacity for compassion and forgiveness. Her innate wisdom and understanding of human ugliness..." his throat closed up with a wild surge of emotion and he had to take a break. His hand continued its slow, smooth stroking, soothing both his son and himself.

"When I look at you, I see her eyes staring back at me. I see her soul, I see her heart. The heart that I broke and that came back to haunt me... and save me."

Luke gazed up at him, eyes clouded with tears, seeing his father withdraw into himself.

But then, something roused the Sith Lord from his gloomy mood, and he resumed his caresses.

"You inherited the best of her, Luke. And the best of me... if there ever was anything good in me at all."

The brutal admission shook the two of them, but it was the boy who took it harder.

"Father, that's not..."

"Shhh," Vader put his finger on his child's lips, effectively silencing him. "It's all right," he shrugged in humble acceptance. "It _is_ all right."

On top of the bedcovers, Luke's hand released his father's fingers and interlaced them with his own in a mute gesture that was the most vocal statement Vader ever heard.

Barely one day ago the boy could only _try_ to intertwine their fingers, that weak he was, and today he was sliding his fingers firmly between his own and squeezing tight.

Yes, things were going to be all right. Independently from him. He wasn't necessary anymore.

The Dark Lord smiled beneath his mask. He had _truly_ learned to let go.

He moved his finger away.

"Want some water?" he asked softly.

Luke nodded, eyes completely engaged in the masked face before him.

Vader nodded back and rose to his feet elegantly. He walked over to the small table against the wall and poured half a glass of water from the pitcher there. He returned to his son's beside and slid his free hand under the boy's head. Luke tried to help by rising on one elbow, but the effort was too draining for him. Still, he managed to remain in position long enough to take a long sip from the glass.

"Easy," Vader whispered to him, placing the boy's head carefully back on the pillow.

"Thank you," Luke panted, licking his lips to wet them.

"You're welcome," Vader said, stroking his cheek proudly.

The door slid open and doctor Vilk walked in with a bounce to his step. However, on seeing the glass in Vader's hand, he faltered.

"Good morning," he greeted them, looking from one to the other and back. "Did you give him water to drink?" he asked.

"Yes," Vader replied, realizing for the first time that his apparently inocuous action could be harmful to the stomach that hadn't had any food or water for so long. "I asked him if he wanted some water and he said he did."

Vilk's head turned to Luke.

"Were you thirsty?"

Luke nodded timidly.

"That means your digestive system is working again and your body is asking for what it needs," he gave the young man a pleased smile. "Let's wait for a while and see if you can hold it down. In any case, it's time to put you on saline to keep you hydrated."

Father and Son nodded in agreement.

Vilk approached the bed while the Sith Lord went to put the almost empty glass back on the table.

"You have a much better colour today," the physician began his examination. "We'll change your sheets and wash you up."

"Ungh," Luke complained, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"When a patient starts complaining it means they're well on their way to recovery," Vilk countered, unperturbed.

Chastised, Luke didn't make a sound throughout the rest of the examination.

"The high fever made you sweat a lot and besides, we must keep germs at bay," Vilk explained patiently. "Your immune system is still recovering and I don't want to play with that."

The young man acquiesced with a small sigh.

"Your fever is almost gone, by the way," the doctor announced with a big grin. "It is my guess that your temperature will be back to normal during the day. More good news."

Luke smiled hopefully, holding out his hand to his father, who quickly took it in his own and shook it heartily.

Vilk's eyes bulged at that, but he continued his examination nonchalantly.

"All right," he said at last. "Everything's looking great, so we'll do as I said. The nurses will take care of the sheets and the washing up and after that, I'll put you on saline. In a day or two, we'll start you on soft foods and see what happens. If you can hold down the water you just drank, it'll be a good sign."

"Good," Luke's face lit up happily.

Vilk reached out one arm to Vader.

"If you'll come with me now, he'll be ready in no time," he invited.

Vader nodded and looked down at his son.

Luke nodded back at him encouragingly and released his hand with a fond squeeze.

* * *

Vader had been waiting in the anteroom for 10 minutes when the double doors opened and all of his son's friends walked in, with Princess Leia at the head of the group. When she saw him sitting there, she rushed to sit next to him.

"How is he?" she asked eagerly.

"Better," Vader wasted no time to answer. "His digestive system is working again. Vilk is going to put him on saline, and in one day or two he'll start him on soft foods. Also, his fever is almost gone." His eyes turned to the closed door. "The nurses should come out any minute now."

The relief in the air was tangible.

"Is he awake?" Han asked.

"Yes, he is."

"Uh-oh," Leia sympathized with Luke's embarrassing situation. "He's not going to enjoy the _procedure_."

"He made a very expressive sound to show his displeasure," the Sith Lord confirmed, beginning to see the dark humour in his son's predicament.

"Ungh," Han uttered in commiseration.

" _Precisely_ ," Vader's nodding head turned to the Corellian.

The short silence that ensued was followed by a rumble of soft laughter that was filled with love for the helpless young man in the adjoining room.

* * *

Five minutes later, the door opened and the nurses rolled out of the room.

"You may enter whenever you wish," the last one told them.

"Thank you," Leia stood, nodding to the others to go first.

Han, Lando and Chewie quickly made it for the door, impatient to see their friend again. Vader was rising when Leia raised her hand to draw his attention.

"There's something I want to ask you," she began.

"Yes?" Vader said.

"Would you mind if I called Dr. Senna and told her to come visit Luke now? She was a great friend to me when I had no one to turn to, and she really came to care for Luke."

"I have absolutely no objection," Vader rose to his feet. "Where do you want me to wait?"

Leia stood as well and walked with him to the doors. They opened before them.

"There's a black door twenty metres down this corridor," she pointed with her hand. "It's an observation room," she looked up to meet his eyes. "I'll come looking for you when she's gone."

Vader scanned the corridor for a few seconds, verifying there was no one around, and nodded.

"That will be agreeable," he took a deep breath and turned to her. "Take all the time you need."

Something in the way he said the words made Leia prick up her ears, but before she could ask him about it, Vader was already walking down the corridor and the doors were closing in front of her.

* * *

Vader put the small device back in his belt. Turning to the wall-wide window, he lost himself in the blackness before him. He'd already come to terms with his decision. It was the right thing to do, not only for his son and his friends' sake, but also for his own.

He thought about the endless hours he'd spent looking out of windows and into space. Wasted year after wasted year. Searching for a reason to his continued existence, looking for an answer that never came...

...Until now.

There was a definite satisfaction in knowing he still could serve a better cause instead of serving as a bringer of death and destruction. That his life still could have some meaning.

He'd also forgotten how good it felt to immerse himself in the Force instead of drawing from it for his own greedy needs.

What an immeasurable sense of peace he experienced just floating away, just sending out his consciousness to feel his son's vibrant presence on the other side, like a flower blooming in the desert. Luke's natural, selfless connection with the Force was the most harmonious relationship he'd ever encountered.

So, this is what it felt like to walk the right path again. To bask in the simple joy of being alive and rejoicing in the survival of the one closest to you.

Suddenly, he felt a shift in the Force, the now familiar signature of Leia Organa coming to meet him. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the upcoming verbal duel with the strong-willed young woman, who seemed to take an unusual satisfaction in pushing his boundaries and forcing him out of his comfort zone.

Maybe that was the reason why he had grown to like her so much.

The door slid open and soft steps moved towards him.

"She's gone," Leia announced, stopping right behind his back. The door closed after her.

"I shall be there in a minute," he acknowledged, reluctant to give up his silent communion with the stars.

She remained as she was, deadly still behind him, and Vader felt her reaching out with the Force rather clumsily, like a child feeling their way in the dark. He couldn't imagine what she could possibly find out with such shallow mind probe, but in any case, her efforts were to be commended.

"You have too much potential to let it go to waste," he praised sincerely. "I would advise you to seek out Luke's guidance when he's fully recovered. No one could ask for a better master."

A long pause followed.

"I see."

The Princess' dry tone of voice was a dead giveaway that the volcano was about to erupt again. He braced himself.

"When are you going to tell him?" she asked coldly.

"Tell him what?" Vader moved his gaze away from the stars to meet her accusatory stare.

"That you're leaving him."

Her indifferently spoken words hit him like a kick in the stomach.

"Why do you say...?"

"Why would _you_ say such a thing if you weren't leaving?" she protested in aggravation.

"To begin with, it would never cross my mind that you would let _me_ train you," Vader argued honestly.

Leia conceded his point with a quick tilt of her head.

"Is that also the reason why you have been subtly pulling away from him? Is that why you're so amenable to leaving his room and why you're in no hurry to return now?"

Bloody Sith hell! Why did this woman always take his every action as a wrongdoing to his child? When all he wanted...? When _everything_ he was doing, was for his son's wellbeing? When Luke was _all_ that mattered to him?

"I truly do not understand you," he shook his head in exasperation, "you made no secret from the moment I first arrived that you couldn't wait to get me out of your sight."

The Princess took a bold step forward.

"It's not about me, blast it!" she exploded. "It's not about what I want! It's about _him_! About what's best for him! And whether I like it or not, *YOU* are what's best for him!"

The incensed, unfiltered outburst, the momentous admission coming from _her_ , brought their universe to a stop.

Her voice seemed to echo through the room over and over and over again. So much so that _any_ word after that simply felt redundant.

But there _was_ something very important that couldn't be left unsaid.

"Your feelings for me notwithstanding," Vader articulated with difficulty, "you must know that I only have his best interests in mind. I... do care about him."

"So?" Leia shrugged casually, as if Vader's own admission made all the problems go away.

"Let's be realistic, your highness," Vader resorted to formality to get his point across. "We're fighting in opposite sides of a war. We're enemies. What do you think the Emperor and the Imperial army would do if I just... disappeared?"

Leia blanched at those words.

Vader took his own step forward and looked down at her darkly. His intimidating, harrowing presence engulfed her in a suffocating feeling of malevolence that wiped out all sense of security.

"You've only taken your first step into touching and understanding the Force. But as minimal as that understanding is, I'm sure you can at least perceive the far-reaching, boundless _power_ it commands."

His black shadow seemed to devour everything within its sphere of influence - all life, all light, all hope. No place to run, nowhere to hide. Fate sealed... until you surrendered your soul to it.

And Princess Leia Organa, dauntless leader of the Alliance, took her first taste of the Dark Side. She caught a glimpse of what it demanded, what it took away... and the dead carcass it left behind.

All the air seemed to rush from her lungs, and she shrank from it, from him, fearing for herself. For her life. For her very sanity.

"And this... depravity, this absolute perversion of the spirit is what you wanted for Luke?" she hissed through chattering teeth, feeling sick to the core; almost... tainted.

Vader drew back slightly. It was time to come clean.

"I wanted... _him_ , in any way I could have him," he admitted, completely at a loss to explain his irrational compulsion. "He's my son and he belongs with me, as much as I belong with him," he eased off with a sigh, giving up the Darkness he'd drawn on for his little demonstration. "But when I... touched him, when I touched his... innocence, his naïve idealism, his integrity, I..." he looked up at the ceiling, breathless. "It appalled me, it shocked me. It reminded me..." he shook his head, denying obstinately what blossomed in his chest even now. "He showed me explicitly he'd rather die than join me in the Dark Side; and yet... And yet, I... I couldn't give up..." the words wouldn't come and he trailed off, hoping the silence would speak for him.

And the Princess nodded at him, reading between the lines, seeing beneath the façade.

Vader took a step forward again, allowing a bit of his former Darkness to peek through.

"Now, picture that colossal power serving evil, _embodying_ it. Unstoppable, implacable, inescapable like Death itself, bent on having my son no matter what - or destroying him, crushing him to smithereens if he won't surrender," his respiration turned as ominous as the words he was uttering.

And with a bolt of insight, Leia knew to what... to _whom_ Vader was referring to.

"You're talking about Palpatine," she stated with a shudder that racked her from the inside out.

"Yes."

Leia's eyes went wide in horrific realization.

"He won't stop until he has Luke, will he?" there was a resigned, bleak feeling of finality in her voice.

"No," Vader didn't cater to her need for reassurance. He wanted her to get the full scope of the situation, and embellishments wouldn't help. Quite the contrary. She needed to know there was _no_ way out; _no_ hope for a safe future, anywhere. "Unless _I_ stop him."

The Princess had sought to hide in the deepest recesses of her mind, fleeing from the hopeless reality Vader was depicting, but aware all the same of the fact that ignoring it was futile. That's why it took a while for his words to register. She jerked back in a visceral reaction.

"Are you insane?!" she cried out furiously. "You don't stand a chance, going after him on your own. It's suicide!"

A poignant smile slowly spread across Vader's face.

 _Watch out, your highess; your feelings are showing._

But there was _no_ way out, for anyone. Himself included. _Especially_ him.

"Only a Sith Lord can destroy another Sith Lord," he declared philosophically. "And I have my chances... if we work together. With _me_ as your inside man, providing you with all the information necessary to sabotage the Empire from within."

Leia blinked in uncomprehending disbelief. Seconds ticked by, as it gradually dawned on her what the half-machine, half-man in front of her was offering. What _Darth_ _Vader_ was actually...

"Are... A-Are you saying...?" she stammered.

"As of this moment, I'm defecting from the Empire," the Dark Lord intoned solemnly, drawing himself up to his full height. "And to prove that I speak the truth," he reached into his belt and produced two small devices that he promptly handed to the thunderstruck Princess. "Here."

Leia stared at the two devices in her palm, wondering what was wrong with her brain. Was this _real_? Was this _even_ happening? She looked up from her hand to the empty black sockets.

"W-What is this?" she asked, more in general than specifically.

Vader pointed at the bigger device.

"This is a communications device. And here," he pointed now at the smaller device, "I recorded all the information I have about the whereabouts of the Imperial Fleet. Star systems, commands, bases... Including the new Death Star, orbiting the moon of Endor. I would recommend for you to call back your Bothan spies, as many of them will be massacred uselessly. The Emperor _wants_ you to find out the location of our battle station in order to lure you in."

The Princess' features hardened in foreboding. Vader nodded, confirming her worst fears.

"Our forces will be waiting for you. The Death Star is fully armed _and_ operational. You will be annihilated."

Leia swallowed hard, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time. Sickened by the information he was giving her and in awe of him at the same time.

Was the transformation she was feeling as profound as it appeared to be? Was Vader truly turning his back on a lifetime of moral corruption and unending atrocities?

The notion felt out of a bad holomovie or the cheesiest novel, and still... looking at the massive black form standing before her... considering the magnitude of what he'd just done... He'd given away the location of the Imperial Fleet, all their bases and forces, including their most secret weapon, for heaven's sake! That information alone, wisely used, could deal the death blow to the Empire.

 _And_ as their inside man, as he'd said, he could continue relaying to them any changes in the Emperor's plans.

Yes, the part of her that was one of the leaders of the Rebellion could definitely see the advantages, the potential, the ace up their sleeves that Vader was.

But the part of her that was the friend, the nurturing person, Leia Organa _the human being_ , was torn by the idea of letting Vader go, knowing it would break Luke's heart. Especially if Vader's identity as a double agent was blown and he was executed by the Empire... Which was a very distinct possibility. If Palpatine was half as cunning, evil and powerful in the Dark Side as Vader said, she doubted that his cover would hold up for long.

She couldn't support his decision, but she had no authority to stop him either, if it was what he truly wanted to do.

Was Vader subconsciously trying to expiate his crimes by doing this? The thought came to her unbidden.

"Are you positive, _absolutely_ positive that you want to do this?" she asked at last.

Inhaling deeply, Vader drew himself up once more.

"If my son was letting himself die to protect the Rebel Alliance from the Empire, and myself, I can do no less," he stated, conveying a strange mixture of pride and regret... and something more. Something Leia only caught sight of for a millisecond but that burned a path down her soul.

Vader loved Luke. As certain as the sun in the sky. Somehow, her kind, gentle, upright friend had awakened the black heart lost to humanity for decades and brought it back to life.

Vader wasn't about to say the words, probably he never would, but he was ready to bring down an Empire to protect his son. Could there be a greater proof of love?

TO BE CONTINUED...


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Once again, real life gets in the way. I don't know when I'll be able to answer to your wonderful reviews, but be sure that I will (however briefly) as soon as I can. Thank you all for reading. Right now, it means the whole world to me.

* * *

Leia and Vader returned to the waiting room to find Han, Lando and Chewie there, engaged in a lively conversation.

"It was about time!" Han exclaimed, turning to her.

Leia grinned at her impatient boyfriend, grasping his outstretched hand.

"What are you all doing here?" she asked. "Is Luke alone?"

"No way," the Corellian denied dramatically. "But your droids burst in ten minutes ago, _demanding_ to see Luke. Your Artoo unit in particular seemed prepared to set this ship on fire if we wouldn't allow them to enter," he shrugged. "You'd better get in, before they fry the poor kid's circuits."

Vader and Leia crossed gazes.

"Do you mind...?" the Dark Lord began.

"Go ahead," Leia nodded, smiling softly at him. Meanwhile, she would update her friends on their conversation.

Vader nodded back at her and strode into the room.

Luke lay propped up on two pillows, looking refreshed and alert, already hooked on saline. He oozed weakness and frailty through every pore, but his caring eyes looked everything but. They turned to his father the moment he walked in and something in them came back to life; something so indescribably beautiful that Vader felt humbled by it.

Time seemed to stand still as Father and Son lost themselves in each other's eyes.

"Goodness gracious me!" the dismayed exclamation brought them back to reality with a start.

But Threepio's petrified voice was nothing compared to the string of enraged beeping sounds that followed. Raspberries, screeching and shrilling noises, as the little droid at the foot of Luke's bed made for Vader, opening one of his compartments and sticking out his power charging arm. Sparks began to fly and the sound of electricity filled the room.

Instinctively, Vader recoiled and stepped back.

"No, Artoo! NO!" Luke cried out, reacting automatically and reaching out his hand. "Don't hurt him. Don't hurt him, please! PLEASE!"

The droid rolled to a stop and turned his domed head to Luke, then back to Vader and then back to Luke with an interrogative sound, as if he couldn't understand why his kindly master was trying to stop him.

"Trust me," Luke requested softly in a calming voice. "He won't harm me. He won't harm any of us," he assured both droids, turning his head briefly to Threepio.

With a reluctant beep, Artoo obeyed and retracted his arm. Still, he let out a warning sound to remind Vader to not try anything.

"Are you certain that's wise, master Luke?" Threepio asked nervously.

"Yes, Threepio," Luke turned his head to the golden droid. "I'm certain."

" _Threepio?!_ " Vader straightened up and took one step forward. "See-Threepio?"

"Yes," Luke nodded, staring at his father in confusion. "Why?"

Vader's eyes darted from his child to the shining droid. Back and forth, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Suddenly, the helmeted head turned to the small blue droid.

"Artoo... Detoo?" he asked with a catch in his voice.

Everyone in the room felt the spike of emotion in Vader's words. Luke studied his father's stance, anticipation eating him alive.

"Yes. What is it, Father?" he tried to sound as composed as possible.

In an almost pleading gesture, Vader reached out one hand.

"Artoo," he swallowed the lump in his throat, "it's me."

The little droid turned his head to Vader, almost tilting it with a puzzled beep.

Vader's lips quirked with an old, fond memory.

"You still don't like loose wire jokes, do you?"

Absolute silence followed the Dark Lord's obscure reference. Then, a feeble, tentative beep.

Vader nodded.

"Yes, Artoo. It is I," he confirmed.

Another deathly silence answered Vader's affirmation... Until the hatch on the cylindrical body opened again and Artoo's power charging arm emerged once more. A tiny discharge made Vader pull back his hand and stumble back.

The little droid advanced menacingly, sputtering all sorts of noises known to man. Raspberries, beeping, blipping, shrieking and everything in between. The longest tirade ever coming from him.

At some point though, Vader stopped retreating and sank to one knee, putting his hands out and stopping the droid. Bending forward, he leaned the front of his helmet against the blue dome with the softest whisper.

"Artoo..."

And just like that, the incessant invective came to an end and turned into whistling, tweeting, cooing sounds.

Moved to the bone by the totally unexpected scene, Luke blinked back tears, trying to understand what had just happened there. He cast a fast glance at Threepio, who returned it, as awestruck as he was.

"Father..." he croaked a full minute later.

Vader gave a small start.

"It is all right," he rose to his feet, keeping one hand on the little droid. He walked up to his child's bed and put his other hand on his head, caressing it tenderly. " _Everything_ 's all right," he soothed.

"Father," Luke gazed up at him wonderingly, "do you know Artoo?"

Vader let out a dry laugh.

"Know him?" he said, his voice dripping with irony. "He was my astromech droid during the Clone Wars," he turned his head to the little droid beside him. "We went through a lot together."

Artoo beeped assent.

"What?!" Luke couldn't believe his ears.

Vader turned to his sick child and with a wistful smile, he sat down carefully on the edge of his bed. He took the smaller hand in his own and squeezed it.

"These two droids," he included Threepio in his sweeping glance, "are an integral part of _our_ history, of _our_ family."

Luke's eyes opened like two saucers.

"How?"

Vader threw a side look at Threepio. The poor thing seemed about to short-circuit with anxiety at being in his presence.

 _'I built Threepio,'_ he turned to mind-speech, needing urgently some mind-touch with his son.

"Come again?!"

His son's tone of voice, a blending of incredulity, shock and perplexity, hit Vader's funny bone.

 _'I said I built Threepio,'_ he chuckled mentally. _'When I was nine years old. For your grandmother.'_

The boy's mood changed instantly.

 _'Shmi Skywalker,'_ he said the name like a prayer.

Vader's heart missed a beat at the reverence in his son's mind-voice. Luke had never met his grandmother and yet, he said her name like only someone who'd loved her as much as _he_ had...

His hand sought the flushed cheek and cupped it in his palm.

 _'She would have adored you, my son. And you would have adored her,'_ his mind-voice broke and he dropped his hand, overwhelmed by emotion.

 _'Yes,'_ tears swam in Luke's eyes again and he clasped his father's hand in his tightest grip yet. _'I can't believe it,'_ he shook his head. _'It's as if our lives were coming full circle. It almost seems... Fated.'_

 _'Yes,'_ Vader nodded, leaning down naturally - before he realized what he was about to do and halted halfway.

Luke read his intentions and just as starved for his father's touch, he met Vader's helmet with his own forehead.

 _'We're a family now. All of us!'_ he poured himself into those words.

 _Sweet, innocent child! If only it was that easy..._

 _'I'm proud of you for finding your own family,'_ he had to say it. _'You were wise enough to choose the best people to call friends. They will take care of you and protect you better than anyone else out there,'_ he broke into a faraway smile. _'I'm proud of you for everything you are, for everything you've become. I will always be proud of you, no matter what.'_

The boy flinched mentally at that, as though he'd caught the ultimate interpretation of his words that his father tried to hide from him. He moved his head back and studied the black mask, struggling to read it.

"Father..." he breathed, almost afraid to ask the question, to even _think_ about it.

Right then, the door opened and Luke's friends walked in one by one. Pulling themselves together as best as they could, the two men felt the change in the gang's demeanour right away. They had their eyes set on Vader in a quiet, respectful silence.

The Dark Lord knew it wasn't his place to tell Luke about his defection from the Empire. It was his friends' job to do, so he slowly rose to his feet, releasing the warm hand.

Luke's eyes followed him, disconcerted.

"I am leaving you with your friends now. I'm sure you have much to talk about," he threw a fast, knowing look at the others.

"But..." Luke reached out, not understanding what was going on.

Vader grasped it momentarily.

"I will be close by," he promised. " _Always_."

And with a fast nod, he left the room.

* * *

More relaxed and calm than he'd felt in many, _many_ years, Vader stirred himself from his deep state of meditation.

His path was clearer than ever, but several questions still remained unanswered. The biggest one being, would he be strong enough to take that path?

For once, losing his gaze in the stars didn't provide the peace of mind he craved right now. Every time he thought he'd achieved it, a pair of loving, beseeching eyes appeared in his mind's eye, rendering his resolve useless.

 _'I know you will be all right, my child. I can *feel* it! So why can't I bring myself to be content with that? Why does the thought of saying goodbye hurt so much?'_ he sighed despondently. _'I can't have it all. No one can! So, if it's a fruitless endeavour to want it all, then why is it in our nature to long for it?'_

He looked down with a defeated sigh and stared helplessly at his fisted hands.

The door opened behind him and the confident steps of a man walked into the room.

"Solo," he acknowledged gravely.

He received a grunt for a reply. The younger man walked up to him and joined him in his contemplation of the stars.

That action alone earned him another notch of the Sith Lord's admiration. There was far more to that unlikely group of people than appeared on the surface.

Finally, the brown-haired head turned to look at him with laser eyes.

"I took you for many things in the past, but never for a coward."

The blunt words succeeded in snapping Vader out of his musings faster than anyone else had ever managed to. Taken aback, he cast a swift look at the Corellian to his left.

"I didn't think I should be the one to tell..."

Han stopped him by raising his hand.

"I'm not talking about that," he ignored Vader's justification. "I understand you didn't want to win your son over by telling him, _'Hey, I just defected from the Empire; see how good I am!'_ You won him over the moment you went to his deathbed as a father, not an enemy," there was a dark, heavy pause after that. "I'm talking about what you're doing _now_."

Vader's eyes fell closed, beginning to see what was coming.

"And what am I doing?" he asked patiently.

"All right, I'll spell it out for you," Han conceded, irritation tinging his voice. "You're taking the easiest way out. Now that you know he's out of danger you're running away from your duty to him, from your _responsibility_ to him!"

Vader turned and faced the infuriated Captain head on.

"I don't think you believe that for a moment."

Han held his gaze for a minute and then relented, just a little.

"No, but that's the impression you're giving. And I should know. I also ran away from my share of commitments in the past. Women, potential good friends, the Alliance..." he shook his head dolefully. "Even after I admitted to myself I cared about these people and their cause, I still tried to find a way to get myself off the hook," his gaze intensified. "Some things are worth fighting for, and the sick kid twenty metres down this corridor is worth everything! Every effort, every sacrifice! He's your flesh and blood, for blasted's sake!" he exploded.

"That's precisely the reason why I must leave," Vader's frigid composure was unnerving. "To ensure his safety."

"That's a bunch of bantha crap and you know it!" Han sneered disdainfully. "And don't give me that spooky Dark Side of the Force-thing excuse cause it won't wash. Luke's chances of being safe rise exponentially just being near you."

Temporarily flattered by the Corellian's involuntary praise, Vader tried to make himself understood, even though he knew it was a vain attempt. Trying to explain the Force to a non-Force sensitive was like trying to explain the colours to a born blind person.

"For how long could I keep him safe, Solo?" he asked with disarming sincerity. "For my child to be _truly_ safe, the threat to him must be eliminated. And that threat also happens to be the main objective of the Rebel Alliance. Destroy Palpatine and the Empire will crumble like a house of cards. You can't possibly imagine to what point he controls everything. And by everything I do mean _*everything*_ ," he stressed every syllable of the word for emphasis. "He's a spider and the galaxy is his web."

"More reason for you to not embark on this one-man crusade," Han shrugged triumphantly. "It all sounds like a death wish to me."

Startled, Vader wondered if there wasn't some truth to the smuggler's words. He did a quick soul search and came to the staggering conclusion that he honestly didn't know.

The green-brown eyes regarded him with a touch of kindness that was gone in a split second.

"Look, no one wants to see this tyrannical, ruthless system biting the dust more than I do," Han declared. "But not at the price of having Luke lose his father again. He's suffered more traumatic losses in his young life than anyone should ever experience," he made a painful grimace. "I don't think you'll ever _begin_ to understand what getting you back means to him," he turned fully to the giant cyborg, eyes spitting fire once more. "He needs you _desperately_ and you can't deny him now; you _can't_!"

The passionate speech hit the Sith Lord like a shockwave, physically throwing him back. Flashback after flashback filled his mind with unspeakable images.

 _'You are beaten. It is useless to resist!'_

 _'Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.'_

 _'He told me enough! He told me you killed him!'_

 _'No. I am your father.'_

 _'No. That's not true. That's impossible!'_

And then, the image of Luke letting himself go with a final defiant look, effectively committing suicide before joining him.

The bond between the boy and his friends ran deep, deep enough for them to be clearly ready to face the consequences of their actions for Luke's sake. But was _he_ ready to let his son and his friends face what undoubtedly would be coming once all the facts were brought to light?

"Tell me, Captain," he fixed his gaze on the shorter man, "have you stopped to consider what would happen if you contacted your High Command and told them you commited a deliberate act of treason abandoning your post, acting on no one's authority but your own, to meet _me_ in the outskirts of the galaxy? And in the unlikely case that they disregarded your inexcusable behaviour and condoned your actions, how do you think they would react to the news that I am _coincidentally_ Luke Skywalker's father? In what situation would it leave my child? And all of you?"

It was Han's turn now to flinch back and think about the ramifications of their actions. Namely Leia's actions, as she'd been the one to commit the act of treason Vader was referring to. Even if they showed the Alliance the treasure trove of information Vader had given them, the furtive way they had conducted themselves would arise suspicion.

All of a sudden, everything became more complicated than it had seemed at first. He could be fearless and cunning in battle, but he could also be an impulsive fool evaluating a situation... as just now.

Vader was thinking like a true strategist, pondering everything and making the _right_ decision, not the one he would like to make. And with this decision he was protecting _both_ Luke and Leia.

He ground his teeth angrily, seeing why this decision had to be made but hating it at the same time, for all the pain and heartache it was going to cause.

His eyes roamed the expressionless mask and for a moment, it almost seemed to him that he could read the sorrow behind it. Vader was suffering for his impending separation from his child.

He swallowed with great effort and looked away to pull himself together.

"I heard someone say once that you're not truly a parent until you _act_ like one," he nodded to himself and turned to the Dark Lord. "You just acted like a father, thinking about your son first," he took a harsh breath. "It's going to be hard, _very_ hard, but I hope it turns out for the best, for _all_."

Vader returned Han's stare and his bearing softened.

"Thank you, Captain Solo. So do I."

* * *

It was already early evening when Vader entered his child's room. The boy appeared to be dozing, still propped up on the two pillows. He looked better, but Vader could tell he was having a restless sleep.

Placing himself by the headboard, he looked down at the precious life he'd sired, glorying in the fact that it existed and amazed that someone like him had created something this beautiful and perfect.

 _'Little one,'_ he reached out warily and slid his fingertips through the silken strands, lost in thought. _'You took after your mother in everything that counts. You're stronger and wiser than I ever was and one day, you'll become the greatest Jedi ever. You'll be everything I could never be. But I succeeded in one thing. The most important one of all.'_ He smiled lovingly. _'You. And I hope that one day, somehow, I will make you proud.'_

 _'You already make me proud.'_

Vader's senses turned to the sleeping angel in the bed. The long lashes fluttered open and the big, breathtaking eyes gazed up at him.

Pain, loneliness, need, affection... Force, how was he ever going to deny this child what he was crying for? What he was _desperate_ to give?

 _Please, don't make it harder than it is, I beg of you._

"I wish I had learned master Yoda's lessons better," the boy bemoaned bitterly, sitting up a little.

The Sith Lord held back the imprecation that almost exploded from him on hearing that name.

"Why do you say that?" he asked instead, sitting down next to his son.

"If I was an advanced Jedi student, as I considered myself to be when I left..." he looked down and bit his lower lip in shame.

Vader put his hand under the quivering chin and raised it to meet his eyes.

"Yes?" he prompted.

The reddened eyes skittered all over his mask, as if imprinting it into the child's memory forever.

"...Then I could be all stoic about the situation. I'd accept what is and not wish for what I cannot have."

No pain could be worse than what lanced through Vader's spirit at that very moment. He had to wait for it to dissipate before he could speak again.

"My child," his thumb caressed the dimple on the boy's chin soothingly, "I'm the last person who should be giving _any_ lessons, but there's something I've come to understand after all these years. There is no such thing as a Jedi _master_. Life is a constant learning process. You don't _learn_ to cope with situations, you just _do it_ when they happen. Poorly or wisely. A Jedi mentor gives you the tools, but when you're dealing with a crisis you're pretty much on your own," he snorted self-deprecatingly. "And most of the time you _never_ react the way you thought you would."

Luke absorbed every word, taking it in and making it a part of him.

"And why do I think I'm going to deal with this poorly?" his voice broke.

The big gloved hands cupped the flushed face adoringly.

"It is all right," Vader smiled with infinite compassion. "You'll do better next time. That's called practice."

The young man's ragged breath brought Vader closer.

"Shhhh," he hushed, putting the beloved head on his shoulder plate. "Calm down, my son. You mustn't compromise your recovery."

"I don't want to lose you," Luke pleaded, reaching out and clinging to the edge of his father's cape for dear life.

"And you won't!" Vader vowed vehemently. "You just found me, as I found you. But I need to do this, Luke. For myself as much as for you. I helped create the Empire. I helped Palpatine to become a global threat. I _need_ to play a part in bringing him down."

"You already did, with all the information you gave Leia!" Luke argued. "There's no reason for you to take any unnecessary risks. You already proved you're on our side. You already proved you've changed," he brought his trembling hand to his bony chest. "I know it _here_. I can feel it just as I can feel my own heartbeat."

Vader looked skywards for a moment, begging the Universe for help.

"Luke," he met the imploring eyes, praying to be strong enough to resist them, "you're a soldier, a highly respected Commander of the Rebellion. You do see the advantages of having someone like me on the other side. All the additional information I can give you. And not only that. Think about all the _damage_ I can do, paving the way for the Alliance to strike the final blow," he shook his head earnestly. "Only when this horror is over, only when this galaxy has found peace again, I will be free to return to you with a semblance of honour and dignity."

Something moved behind Luke's eyes. He didn't want to listen to his father's reasoning, he didn't want to admit he was right. But Vader could see the boy _knew_ that he was.

Steeling his heart against the act of cruelty he was going to inflict upon that tender soul, the Dark Lord spoke unflinchingly.

"This is not the time to be selfish, my son. We must find the courage to face our responsibilities and think of the greater good," he tipped his head sideways to soften the sting of his words. "That's what you did when you went to Cloud City to save your friends. You knew there was danger, that it was probably a trap, and you still came."

The young man's face had gone through a wide myriad of emotions in the blink of an eye. Hurt, realization, acceptance, resignation... And Vader hated himself for every single one of them.

"Master Yoda wouldn't agree with you," his voice sounded older and tired all of a sudden. "He believed that completing my training had to take precedence over..." he swallowed hard. "...But I just couldn't do it. I was reckless and impulsive."

Vader fell silent, examining his child's decision.

"Destiny works in convoluted ways sometimes," he said at last. "Yes, you were reckless and impulsive, and made a rash decision that could have cost you dearly. But look at the way it all turned out."

Their eyes sought and locked upon each other.

"I didn't know it at the time - at least not consciously - but the moment I had you in front of me, the instant I looked upon your face for the first time... Something in me changed forever. You were _real_ , you were flesh and blood. _MY_ flesh and blood. And since that day, your eyes haunted me wherever I went, in everything I did. I saw them on the bridge, in the stars, in my dreams... A siren call, the sweetest promise..." his hand moved of its own volition and held the back of the long neck, cradling it in his palm like a fragile little bird. "I _knew_ there was something wrong with you. I could feel it in my veins. And when that transmission was intercepted, my fate was sealed."

He brought his son closer, ever closer.

"I will never forgive myself for putting you in this state; but never doubt that it was you, _you_ , Luke, who brought some meaning back into my life. If it means anything to you, my beautiful child, everything you went through was _not_ in vain. Every tear you have shed, every beat of your fading heart, was bringing me closer to you, and bringing me closer to the person I should have been all along. Your pain was NOT for nothing."

"Oh, Father!" the boy exclaimed, burying his face in his shoulder with a muffled cry. "Father, Father!" he pressed himself up to the leathered body, as if wanting to fuse himself with it.

"I need you to be strong for me," Vader entreated. "Please, Luke! Please try! Help me be the man I need to be!"

The blond head nodded weakly on his shoulder and Vader knew he had never loved so much.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: From this chapter on, nothing relevant will happen as far as the plot of the story is concerned. As a matter of fact, the following chapters will portray eminently "domestic" and familiar scenes, as Luke's recovery continues, and I have no doubt that some of you will consider them unnecessary. That is one of the reasons why this story turned out to be so long. But as as the "Maker" of the story, as Threepio would say, I felt the need to keep on writing in this vein, to fulfill something inside me that needed to come out. Call it "the author's prerogative," if you will. ;-) Therefore, I will understand if I lose some readers along the way, if they consider the remaining chapters (until maybe the last two) to be boring, off character or downright padding.

Remember: TIME is precious and the BACK button is a blessing. :-)

* * *

Dr. Vilk visited them right after dinner time, and very pleased to see Luke's healthier colour, began his routine examination. He was almost finished when Luke's friends walked in, eager to know what he had to say.

"Well!" Vilk looked up with a wide grin. "I'm very happy to announce that you have no fever anymore," he reached out and squeezed the thin shoulder. "Congratulations, young man, you're officially disease-free!"

The exultant group stared at one another, finally able to believe that the nightmare was over. Artoo's cheery beeping and tweeting sounded louder than ever.

"As I promised," the good doctor continued, "I'll start you on soft foods tomorrow, and see how your stomach behaves. If everything goes well, it should be a good time to move you back to your own quarters. I imagine you can't wait to be back to 'familiar territory' and continue your recovery there."

The look on the young man's face was the last thing Vilk expected to see. It almost literally fell, and he turned to Vader with an uncertain expression.

"C-Couldn't I just stay here, doctor?" he requested, turning his eyes to him. "I'm sure you can turn this isolation room into a regular room, can't you?"

"Well... Yes, I suppose it's feasible," Vilk said, "although I see no reason to do it. Wouldn't you be more comfortable in your own..."

"I think Luke means it would create a considerable commotion to see Darth Vader walking the corridors of the ship and visiting him in his quarters," Leia butted in. And boy, wasn't that the _absolute_ truth? Surely, Vilk could remember the discretion with which she had conducted Vader's presence on board, and put two and two together.

"Oh." Vilk's eyes opened wide. "Oh, I see!" he looked around at all the nodding heads. "All right, then. We'll take care of it tomorrow," he straightened up. "Now, say your goodnights and let my patient sleep," he patted Luke's shoulder and left the room.

"I love good news!" Han walked over to the bed and mussed Luke's hair. "Well done, kid! See ya tomorrow. Sleep tight."

"Thanks," Luke smiled up at his best friend.

Han's eyes turned to Vader and stared at him with newfound respect.

"Good night," he simply said with a curt nod.

"Good night, Captain Solo," was the polite reply.

Leia approached Luke's bed from the other side, bent down and kissed his cheek, caressing the other with the back of her fingers.

"Good night, Luke. I'll come visit you first thing in the morning."

Luke reached out and fingered one stray lock of hair lovingly.

"All right, but sleep well," he asked her. "You need it."

She just smiled. Typical Luke, to worry about others more than about himself. She gave him a spontaneous one-armed hug and released him.

"See you tomorrow," she raised her gaze to Vader and flashed him the quickest smile. "You're staying the night again?" she stated more than asked.

Vader looked down at his child and for the first time, he seemed to hesitate.

"If you want me to..." he began. "But I'll understand if you'd rather take back your privacy."

Luke's eyes enfolded his father in a mute embrace.

"I'd rather make the most of the time we have left..."

Vader nodded, placing his hand on the nearest shoulder in a gesture that said it all.

Luke's friends shared a fast look. Chewie and Lando said their goodnights and followed Han and Leia out of the room.

"I hope you have a good night's rest, master Luke," Threepio wished the young Jedi.

"Thank you, Threepio," Luke replied formally.

Artoo beeped Luke goodnight, sparing an extra beep for Vader.

"'Night, Artoo," Luke smiled at the departing little droid. It was funny, only now he realized that Artoo's sounds had always made him happy.

So many things he had taken for granted and been so close to losing forever! Including himself.

"Good night, Artoo," Vader said, just before the door closed.

Once alone, Father and Son looked into each other's eyes.

"Are you tired?" Vader asked softly.

"I'm _always_ tired," Luke replied with a grimace. "Can't remember the last time I didn't feel tired."

"You'll be getting your strength back soon," Vader assured him, moving his hand back. "Now, where do you want me?"

"Where are you more comfortable?" Luke asked back.

"I always sleep in a sitting position," Vader shrugged, looking fleetingly at the chair next to his child's bed.

"Be my guest," Luke offered the chair to his father as if he had actually seen him look at it.

Vader took a seat and turned gentle eyes to his offspring.

"It must have been hell for you, leaning against the headboard all those nights you sat with me. I'm sorry," Luke's eyes dropped apologetically.

Vader leaned forward and slid his hand through the blond hair.

"It *was* hell for me", he confirmed. "It was hell not knowing if you would live. It was hell watching you fight for every breath. But thank the Force, it's all in the past now."

Luke smiled bashfully at his father and reached out to him.

Vader drew the chair closer to the bed and held the proffered hand.

The young man turned in the bed until he was facing the Dark Lord.

"Thank you," he whispered to him, staring at their joined hands.

Vader squeezed the long fingers, reaffirming their bond.

"Always," he pledged with all of his being.

* * *

 _'Anakin, all I want is your love.'_

 _'Love won't save you, Padme. Only my new powers can do that.'_

 _'It seems in your anger, you killed her.'_

 _'Now, release your anger. Only your hatred can destroy me.'_

 _'Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.'_

 _'He told me enough. He told me you killed him.'_

 _'No. I am your father.'_

 _'NOOOOOOOO! NO!'_

 _'I have felt an unsettling disturbance in the Force. Do you think young Skywalker is the source of the disturbance?'_

 _'Maybe.'_

 _'You must be patient. He will need time to recover from... your sweet fatherly attentions.'_

 _'Yes, my master.'_

 _'When the time comes, his full blossoming into the Force will make it inevitable. He will learn there is no choice. He will join us in the Dark Side, or die.'_

 _'Come with away me. Help me raise our child.'_

 _'Luke.'_

 _'Father.'_

 _'Our baby is a blessing.'_

 _'Leave everything else behind while we still can!'_

Vader's eyes opened. The first thing he saw was his son's sleeping face, still turned to him. Several locks of hair had fallen over his eyes, and at that very moment he looked no older than sixteen. He was curled up in the bed, with his right arm drawn up tight against his body, the end of his stump barely visible.

The sight of it hit Vader with a crushing brutality that sent a rush of bile to his throat.

 _'I did this. For heaven's sake, *I* did this! *I* mutilated him! I cut off the hand of my own child. Force, oh, Force!'_

Releasing the warm hand he'd been holding all night, he sprang to his feet and sought refuge in the small restroom. He leaned on the sink with both hands, fighting the waves of horror and nausea, swallowing convulsively as his stomach turned in utter revulsion.

 _'Forgive me, little one. Forgive me, for I will never forgive myself. I will never forgive myself! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF!'_

* * *

By blessed luck, his son was still sleeping when he emerged from the small cubicle. Exhausted to the core of his bones, he leaned back against the doorframe, his eyes seeking out the small bundle that constituted his universe.

 _'So small, so defenseless... How could I defile him so? What pushed me to scar his spirit with the same ugliness that defiled me?'_

The translucent eyelids twitched a few times and soon after, the clean, mesmerizing eyes opened, settling on him as if they knew where to find him. A heartbeat later, a slow, contented smile illuminated the angelic features.

It seemed to Vader that his child would happily spend the rest of the day just looking at him. But he was too distraught to face that innocence for much longer.

"Good morning," he said, breaking the spell.

Luke's smile broadened and he wiggled his fingers at his father in a childlike greeting.

"Are you all right?" the boy asked kindly.

"I _could_ be better," Vader shrugged, pushing himself off the doorframe, deciding to bring some levity to the moment instead of wallowing in self-pity, which would be offensive to his son's ordeal. "You know, tall, blond and handsome."

Luke burst out laughing. Those were the last words he would have expected to hear.

Vader walked over to his child's bedside and reclaimed his seat next to it. It was a balm to the heart to hear his son's joyous laughter.

"Is that how you used to be?" the young man inquired when the laughter died down.

Vader shrugged again.

"I suppose. I never cared about that. But yes, I was blond. And had blue eyes."

The lovely eyes lit up.

"Just like me," Luke breathed in awe.

Vader leaned down and yielded to the sweet temptation of moving aside the blond strands.

Force, how could he live over two decades without this? He _ached_ to touch, to feel! He longed to experience everything with all five senses again. The warm sensation of soft skin on his fingertips; the earthy scent of a rainforest; the vibrations of his child's calming voice in his ears. He hadn't missed any of those things... until now.

 _'No real hands to touch you; trapped inside this suit that keeps me deprived of all human contact. What wouldn't I give to have you *touching* me!'_

"Yes," he said, ignoring the burning in his throat. "Just like you."

"What else did I inherit from you?" Luke asked, expectantly.

Taking a long breath, Vader fingered the cleft in the boy's chin.

"This," he smiled deliberately.

A big grin formed on the dry lips.

"Do you want some water?" the words were out of Vader's mouth before his mind had formed them.

Luke nodded.

"Yeah, let's start waking up my stomach," he turned onto his back and struggled a bit to move to a sitting position.

Meanwhile, Vader filled a glass with water and returned to his son's side.

"Do you want to drink it?" he asked.

"Yes," the boy nodded, taking the glass from his father's hand carefully. The glass shook a little in his grasp, but the content didn't spill. He brought it to his lips and drank half of it; then, he handed the glass back to his father. "Thank you."

Vader caressed the top of his head in answer and took the glass back to the table. When he returned, Luke was staring at his lap.

"How do you feel?" he asked, sitting on his son's bed.

The enthralling eyes met his.

"I guess I'm fine. Nothing hurts. But I'm still awfully tired and my joints are a bit stiff."

"That's because you've been lying in bed for a very long time," Vader stated. "I wouldn't be surprised if Dr. Vilk made you rise from bed any day now."

Luke nodded distractedly.

"What's troubling you?" the big hand took hold of the smaller one lying on the bedcover dejectedly.

Luke gnawed at his lower lip worriedly.

"The Force," he mumbled timidly. "I'm... numb somehow. I can feel it, but it's... different. It's all nebulous... undefined."

"Your illness has weakened your ability to channel it," Vader explained. "It requires an extra bit of concentration that your mind can't handle right now."

"It'll come back, won't it?" Luke's anguished eyes tore at his father's heart.

 _'Of course it will! You can hear me, can't you?'_

 _'Yes, I can,'_ the relief in Luke's mind-voice was heartrending. _'But how come we can communicate like this? Master Yoda never told me that Jedi were also telepaths.'_

 _'Unique mental abilities are a primary characteristic of all Force sensitives. Telekinesis, precognition... But as far as I know, the ability to communicate mentally like we do, is unheard of.'_

 _'Really?! How so?'_ Luke asked, dying of curiosity.

 _'A Jedi can feel the call for help of a fellow companion, but it's more like an S.O.S. signal. You feel the disturbance in the Force and with practice, you can tell to whom that signal belongs and their location. But you don't hear any voices inside your head.'_

 _'Then, what we're doing right now...'_ sheer wonder pervaded Luke's thoughts.

 _'It is exclusive of our family. Just between you and me,'_ Vader smiled roguishly.

Luke's face beamed like a summer sunrise and his emaciated features shone with delight.

 _'But how can it be? Why? Why us?'_ he bombarded his father with questions.

The Sith Lord chuckled in amusement at his son's excitement.

 _'I don't have an answer for that. But I see two possibilities.'_

 _'What possibilities? Tell me!'_ the child's fingers entwined with his own unconsciously.

Vader looked down at their hands, feeling impossibly self-conscious.

 _'Well, ah, I just happened to be the greatest Force-sensitive in all the history of the Jedi, so it makes sense that my son has inherited an extreme sensitivity to the Force.'_

The boy stared at him with a mixture of surprise, disbelief and absolute stupefaction.

 _'You... You are the...?'_ he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

 _'I *used* to be,'_ Vader amended Luke's words. _'After the devastating injuries I sustained, my ability to feel and wield the Force diminished considerably. Still, I think my potential helped me to compensate throughout the years.'_

Luke's face softened, full of caring and compassion. His gaze turned to their linked hands and he smiled at them.

 _'Your abilities may have diminished somewhat, but your inner strength more than makes up for the loss. You're extraordinary, Father.'_

Vader reached out and covered the pale hand.

 _'And you are a miracle. My little blessing come alive.'_

There was a long, heartfelt silence, filled with emotion.

 _'And that's the second possibility,'_ Vader's mind-voice whispered delicately.

 _'What?'_ Luke whispered back.

 _'No Jedi has ever borne offspring. And since I am the first, maybe this is an ability only shared by blood relatives. Who knows?'_

Their eyes met and simultaneously, the two men experienced an eerie feeling of homecoming.

 _'I... I want to believe that both possibilities are correct,'_ Luke confessed shyly.

 _'Me too,'_ Vader's voice sounded equally hopeful.

The long, comfortable silence deepened until Vader looked down at the lone hand he held. He squeezed his eyes shut and giving himself to the feelings he couldn't hold back anymore, he rose from the bed and sank to his knees facing his son.

The young man stared at him in startlement and confusion.

"Father?" he asked out loud, showing to what point the abrupt change in Vader's demeanour had rattled him.

Keeping his eyes on their clasped hands, unable to look anywhere else, the Dark Lord fought with all his might to find the words that wouldn't come, simply because _no_ words could convey the depth of his regret and sorrow.

"There are no words in any language, not even the language of the soul, to tell you... to begin to..." he shook his head in frustration. "I wronged you, my son; I committed the most forbidden, unthinkable act of cruelty that hurt you as much as it soiled me. There can be no forgiveness for what I did, and it makes me want to tear at my own flesh until there is nothing left of me."

"No, Father, please!" Luke exclaimed tremulously through misted eyes.

"Let me finish, I beg you," Vader bent his head over their joined hands, almost touching them. "I want you to know that I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of your example, trying to live up to the lesson you taught me. A lesson in heroism and fortitude, in how to defend your principles and beliefs until the last consequences. That day... The day I mutilated your body and tried to break your spirit, you unintentionally became my master, my good and true master. The master whose teachings I will uphold until my last breath."

"Oh, Force! Oh, my..." Luke choked out in a sob.

"Will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me, my master?" Vader asked humbly.

"Yes," was the broken answer.

The Sith Lord looked up into the wide open, so loving eyes, biting his lips at the tears gathered in them that promptly fell on their hands like raindrops.

Maintaining his composure somehow, Luke extracted his hand from between his father's and put it on top of his helmet, keeping it there as if blessing him - or absolving him. Then, he brought it down to his right shoulder - as if knighting him.

"I forgave you long ago, Father," the boy confessed, not quite daring to meet Vader's eyes. "Long before you got here. There was such conflict in me... I couldn't understand why I wanted to reach out to the person who'd hurt me so much. It infuriated me that just because you're my father, my heart cried out to me that despite everything, there was good in you. I didn't want to believe, I knew it was foolish of me to believe... And my heart still betrayed me... Because it *knew* it _was_ the truth." His hand cupped the side of the black mask, as if cradling his father's cheek in it. "You came to me, you offered me your heart... And I'll take it with me wherever I go... As you will take my heart with you, wherever you go."

Suddenly, the room seemed to grow too small, the air became too thick to breathe, and then it was only them, Father and Son in all their vulnerability, drifting in a haze of tenderness and belonging that would sustain them in this life, the next, and any others that might come after that.

Vader's shaking hand lifted and lay over the bony chest, shuddering at the feel of the strong, resilient heart beating within. Then, he took his son's only hand with the other and placed it beside his chest plate. He waited for his child to feel the soft thudding of his own heart on his palm.

"One and the same, Luke," he sighed out reverently. "One and the same. Forever."

The boy's eyes flickered closed and a slow shiver spread through his small, thin frame. He nodded, soaking up their truth, rejoicing in it.

"One and the same, Father," he whispered back to him like a prayer. Like an oath.

Their hands dropped together and Vader rose, just as the door of the room opened and Dr. Vilk walked in, carrying a bed tray with a small plate on it.

The two men turned their heads to him inquisitively, doing their best to collect themselves.

"Good morning," Vilk greeted them with a smile. "I wanted to be the one to do the honours," he put the tray over Luke's thighs, and the young man just stared at it uncomprehendingly. He was still too shaken by the moment he and his father had shared to concentrate on something as ordinary as a plate of...

"Soup?!" he asked, turning disappointed eyes on the grinning doctor.

"What did you expect? A steak tartare Mimban style?" Vilk retorted.

Vader bit his lips at the doctor's wisecrack, sitting again on his child's bed.

The young man's pout was half-amusing, half-heartbreaking as he took the spoon and began to eat the soup without a word of protest.

"Don't worry," Vilk assured him when he was finished. "If your stomach doesn't rebel, I'll add some more food to your diet gradually. We have to start putting some meat on your bones as soon as possible."

Luke nodded in acquiescence.

"All right, see you later," Vilk smiled kindly at the deflated youth, taking the tray from the bed. "Try to cheer him up!" he told Vader on his way out.

"I will, Doctor," Vader promised, smiling to himself at his son's sulking.

Luke leaned back against the headboard, sighing out loud.

"From one impatient person to another..." Vader said, squeezing the boy's forearm, "...be patient."

"That's really helpful," Luke replied ironically.

The smile reached Vader's lips.

"I know it doesn't help, but that's the way it is. You've been lying down for a long time and now that your body is recovering, you're feeling restless and uncomfortable in bed. It's normal. But you don't have the strength to stand yet, so you must do this step by step," he framed the gloomy face in his hand.

Luke's head turned to him and eventually, his expression melted into a poignant smile.

"I'm sorry, Father. But for a moment, I hoped for..."

" _More_ ," Vader said the word for him.

Luke nodded.

"In a few days, you will be surprised at how fast you'll improve," his father assured him. "I cannot believe how far you've come in so little time," he caressed the soft cheek reassuringly.

The young Jedi smiled under his father's hand.

The door opened once more and Princess Leia walked in. She had a smile on her face that grew bigger when she saw them.

"Good morning!" she went directly to Luke's bed and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a hug that the young man returned fervently. "You look much better today. Your cheeks are fuller, don't you think?" she turned to Vader.

"Yes," Vader nodded in agreement.

"Dr. Vilk told me you already had breakfast," she shook Luke's hand energetically.

"I guess you could call it that," Luke shrugged.

"And how're you feeling?" Leia asked.

"I feel a bit queasy right now; like a heartburn or something."

Vader and Leia shared a fast look.

"I think that's to be expected, considering he hasn't had any food in his stomach for many days," the Dark Lord said. "Let's wait a few minutes and see what happens."

"All right," Leia turned to Luke again. "The guys are finishing their breakfast. They want to come and visit you afterwards."

"That'll be great!" Luke smiled at her. "Did _you_ sleep well?"

"Just fine," she smiled back. "And you?"

"Fine too. I spend most of the time sleeping anyway..."

"Less and less now," Leia began to smooth the edges of the sheets and fluff his pillows. "And this is usually the point where everything gets boring, when days are endless..."

"No," Luke took her hand. "I'm grateful. Infinitely grateful to you, to Father and everybody. I'm glad to be alive, and even if I'm bedridden with nothing to do... I'm happy just looking at you."

Leia's face softened. She reached out and touched his face with her fingertips, almost in wonder.

"And I'm infinitely grateful for the way things turned out. It was worthwhile," she turned her eyes to Vader now. " _All_ of it."

Vader bowed his head in acknowledgement.

The door opened for the third time that morning and the bulk of the group entered one by one, including the droids.

Luke's smile broadened even more at the sight of his friends and the chorus of greetings he received. This is what it meant to be alive, this was the true meaning of life! Sharing with the people you cared about and that cared about you. Before he knew, they had engaged in a totally irrelevant conversation that included silly stories, outrageous joking and lots of laughter; enjoying their company and strengthening their bond after months of separation.

At some point however, Luke realized that his father wasn't participating and turned his head to him. One look was enough to communicate his message. Vader simply shook his head and took hold of the young man's hand, squeezing it intensely.

 _'I had forgotten what it was like to relax in the company of people who do not judge you and accept you just the way you are. People you can fool around with to your heart's content. There hasn't been much of that in my life. It's a privilege for me to share in with you all, Luke, even from the sidelines.'_

Luke's eyes filled with profound sympathy and he squeezed his father's hand back.

 _'They're your friends now, even if none of you can admit it,'_ he smiled softly. _'And by the way, the heartburn is gone.'_

 _'It's so good to hear that, Son,'_ Vader smiled at him.

"Excuse me, are we intruding on your private conversation?"

Leia's words effectively silenced everybody, even the ones who were talking mind-to-mind. Vader and Luke turned their heads to her as one, and she broke into a mischievous smile.

"Did... Did you feel...?" Luke stammered.

The Princess chuckled impishly and shook her head.

"I saw you looking at each other and I _reached out_ as you taught me," she looked pointedly at Vader. "I felt _something_ connecting you two. Something vibrant and full of light." She smiled just thinking about it. "Like a _lifeline_."

"I told you that you had great potential," Vader reminded her.

Han coughed uncomfortably a couple times.

"This is getting a bit creepy for me, fellas," he fidgeted a little.

"Really?" Luke was feeling playful all of a sudden. "Watch this." He turned his head to the left and focused his attention on the pitcher on the table by the wall. He had to concentrate a bit harder than usual, but after a few seconds the pitcher rose from the table as if held by an invisible hand, tilted bit by bit and refilled the half-empty glass next to it. Then, it settled slowly back on the table.

A deadly silence followed the young man's display, until Leia broke it.

"That... Was... The coolest thing I've _ever_ seen!" she turned to Luke smiling like a child who'd just witnessed the most awesome magic trick, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Luke turned ecstatic eyes to his father.

 _'I did it, Father! I did it! It *is* coming back!'_

 _'I felt it,'_ Vader sounded even happier than his son, if that was possible. _'I felt the Force surging inside you. Welcome back, my gifted one!'_

"Hey, you're doing it again!" Leia exclaimed enthusiastically.

This time, her vehemence made Father and Son jump.

"You can see how strong in the Force she is," Vader pointed out to his child needlessly.

Luke nodded emphatically.

"It would be a waste for her to remain untrained."

Luke turned eyes to Leia and then back to his father with a nod. Out of the blue, he seemed to realize what his father was implying and he did a double take.

"Oh, no!" he shook his head from side to side. "No, Father. I couldn't! I still have much to learn."

"But you _can_ teach her to get in touch with the Force, and some basic meditation techniques that will help her get a grip on her abilities. She needs to learn control more than anything."

Luke's eyes searched Leia's and she shrugged in acceptance. But then, she bit her lower lip for a few seconds, as if evaluating something.

"I wouldn't mind getting a few pointers from you either," she blurted out, looking up at her best friend's father.

For once, Vader didn't have the words to express his gratitude for the gift he'd just been given.

"I would be honoured," he finally said, swallowing hard.

Just then, the door opened and Dr. Vilk walked in, followed by two robot nurses.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but we have to dismantle all the life-support machinery as it's no longer necessary. We'll try to turn this room into something that resembles a regular room."

Vader stood.

"Are you going to move him to a different room in the meantime?" he asked.

Vilk shook his head.

"No. We'll just move his bed to the opposite side. All the work that needs to be done, is right here," he looked at them. "But I must ask you to please leave. We need space to operate."

As one, everybody headed for the door. Vader nodded at his child before following Chewie out of the room.

* * *

The Sith Lord observed his son's friends as they chatted amicably about everything and nothing. About Luke's miraculous recovery, his fast improvement and the things they intended to do when he was back to his healthy self.

Leia turned her head to him all at once, studying him with a probing gaze that wasn't enhanced by the Force this time.

What was she feeling?, he wondered. What was her intuition telling her?

Her eyes softened for an instant, but they never lost their inquisitiveness, and Vader could almost see the million questions boiling in the brown depths.

The Corellian quickly perceived that her attention was elsewhere and looked at them both, trying to ascertain what they were saying to each other.

Leia broke eye-contact then and turned her head to the man she loved, smiling up at him. Han smiled back and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

Artoo's soft beeping brought Vader out of his musings and he put one hand on the blue dome.

"I am all right, Artoo. Just in a pensive mood, that's all," he said.

The little droid beeped something back, but he was interrupted by the door sliding open. The two nurses rolled out, pushing all the life-support machinery out of the room. Two more rolled in, carrying seats and a bedside table. Vilk walked out 30 seconds later.

"Well, the room definitely looks more guests friendly now. You may enter. I'll go fetch his lunch."

Everyone hurried back inside and they were greeted by a really warmer looking place. Everything that reminded of a medical room had been reduced to a minimum, with the addition of four nice chairs and a bedside table with a small lamp on it. Even Luke's top sheet had been replaced by another of a light blue colour, and the coverlet was the one from Luke's own bed. The young man looked much more at ease and he smiled at them as they walked in.

"This looks much better!" Han said, looking around.

"It does, doesn't it?" Luke agreed. "You can _all_ sit now instead of standing."

Lando was the first to try out the new chairs and he nodded his approval with a big grin.

"Very comfy!"

Chewie punched him on the shoulder with a chuckle.

Leia felt something in the air and sniffed loudly.

"What's that smell? Gala's roses?"

"Yes," Luke nodded. "I like it. The room doesn't smell like a medcentre anymore."

It was amazing the difference a smell could make. It truly was like being someplace else.

Dr. Vilk entered carrying the bed tray with another plate of soup and a glass of water. He placed it over Luke's thighs with a smile. The young man looked down at the plate and then met the good doctor's eyes pointedly.

"I'll see you later," Vilk bit his lips mirthfully.

Luke's eyes followed him as he left the room.

Han walked up to his friend's bed and made a grimace at the content of the plate.

"Certainly not the tastiest dish around, but give your stomach time, kid," he gave Luke a warm pat on the shoulder.

Sighing in resignation, Luke took the spoon and started stirring the soup with it, looking utterly miserable.

The others traded a subtle amused look and struck up a lighthearted conversation, hoping to lift Luke's spirits as he ate the poorly flavoured food. As the conversation went on in the same vein, Leia was the first to notice that the young man was dozing off. She met Vader's gaze and they nodded at each other. Lifting the bed tray carefully to not awaken him, the Princess and the rest of the gang left the room to let him sleep in peace, and with the privacy he had lacked for far too long.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	14. Chapter 14

Luke had been sleeping for an hour while his friends and Vader waited patiently in the adjacent room, sometimes talking, sometimes sharing the silence. Just letting time pass, knowing that with every tick of the clock the young Jedi's health kept improving.

Dr. Vilk entered the waiting room and his eyes opened wider on seeing them all there.

"We decided to let him sleep without any of us watching over him like Roonian hawks," Leia explained for them.

Vilk nodded his agreement.

"That's good. He needs to get back the sense of normalcy he's been missing since he fell ill. That's why I think it's time for him to stand on his own two feet again."

"Metaphorically or literally?" Vader asked.

Vilk smiled at Vader's question. There was so much more to that inhuman beast than he'd thought at first.

"Good catch," he praised the Sith Lord. "In this instance, I mean it literally. It's never good to keep a patient in bed for too long. They need to stand as soon as they regain a fraction of their strength. I doubt he'll be able to stand for longer than a few seconds, but the sooner we start the better."

"Please, wait a minute," Leia told them as she headed for the door.

Vilk and the others shared a fast look, wondering what the Princess had in mind. She returned a couple minutes later, holding Luke's slippers in her hand. Vilk nodded at her, and walking past them, she entered Luke's room to bring the happy news. The door closed after her.

Vilk turned to his patient's friends.

"I'll need one of you to give me a hand," his eyes turned to Han. "Do you volunteer?"

"Sure!" the Corellian took one step forward. "What do I have to do?"

"I'll stand to one side of him and you to the other. His legs probably won't be able to hold him up and he'll collapse, so I'll need you to keep him from hitting the floor," his eyes turned apologetically to Vader. "I'm sorry, but you're too tall for this."

"I understand, doctor," Vader nodded.

Just then, the Princess exited the room. She looked flushed and slightly breathless. Her gaze was lost and her eyes skittered around the room indecisively, as if she was looking for an answer or fighting an internal battle.

"Are you all right?" Lando was the first to ask, seeing that everybody else appeared speechless by her behaviour.

Her eyes raised to Lando's and they suddenly cleared.

"Yes, yes... I am," she looked down, biting her lips nervously. "Ahhh..." she looked around again, but then her features hardened and her expression grew resolute. "I have something very important to do. If you'll excuse me..." her decision made, she dashed for the door. "Please, take care of him!" she told them on her way out.

The group stared at each other for a moment, not knowing what to make of the young woman' actions. Finally, Vilk decided to shrug off the incident.

"All right, let's get in," he said.

* * *

Luke was awake and sitting up in his bed, leaning back against the two propped up pillows. The first thing everybody noticed, was his reddened eyes. Nonchalantly, he rubbed them with his fist.

"When I woke up they stung like hell," he said.

"It happens sometimes," Vilk nodded. "I'll go find an ocular lubricant," his eyes turned to Luke's friends. "You can move him to the edge of the bed if you want, but keep him there until I return!" he warned before he left.

Han and Lando walked up to the young man's bed. Luke's slippers were right beside it.

"Did Leia told you...?" Han began.

"Yes," Luke smiled, moving the bedcovers aside. "I don't think my legs will hold me up, but they never will unless I try, right?"

"Right."

Everybody was appalled by the sight of Luke's legs. This was the first time they got to see them and they looked as bony as the rest of him. His white gown reached right above his knees and it looked too much like a shroud for comfort.

Han shook himself out of his sudden gloomy mood. The kid would look better as soon as he started eating _real_ food.

"Can you move over to the edge of the bed or do you need some help?" he asked.

"I think I can manage," Luke said, dragging himself from the centre of the mattress to the very edge, letting the lower part of his legs dangle over it.

Vilk returned with the eye drops.

"Move your head backwards and keep your eyes wide open," he instructed.

Luke obeyed and only flinched a little when the drops fell into his eyes.

"Good," Vilk nodded. "I'll leave the eye drops here on your table. Use them whenever your eyes get dry or red."

Luke nodded, avoiding the doctor's gaze.

"Now, are you ready to stand a little?" Vilk asked cheerfully.

"I'm ready, doctor," the young man nodded.

"All right. Slide your legs all the way down to the floor and put on your slippers," Vilk said.

Luke did so.

"Good. Now, wrap one arm around my shoulders and the other around your friend's." He looked at Han next. "Wrap your arm around his waist and I'll do the same. That way, we'll hold him up if he starts dropping down."

"You got it," Han nodded assent.

Luke tried to stand up, but the muscles in his legs started trembling with the effort of holding his own weight. Seconds later, they gave out. Automatically, Han and Dr. Vilk tightened their hold on his waist and on his forearms, keeping him from hitting the floor.

"It's all right, we've got you," Vilk calmed his patient. "Do you think you can try and hold your own weight again?"

"I'll try," Luke said, "but I don't think I'll be too successful," he ground his teeth in frustration.

"Don't worry," Vilk encouraged him. "This is the first time, so it's all right if your legs don't cooperate. Ready?"

"Yeah," Luke grunted.

Together, Han and Dr. Vilk held him up so that he could straighten his legs under him.

"Here we go," Vilk said. "Try to hold all your weight on your legs only."

Little by little, Vilk and Han released their hold on Luke's waist and forearms, but never moving their hands away. The young Jedi managed to stand a bit longer this time, but when he made the bold move of putting his left foot forward to take his first step, he lost his balance.

"Woa, kid! Where do you think you're going?" Han exclaimed with a start, holding him by the waist and grabbing his forearm hard. "It's too soon to walk!"

"It's a commendable try, but foolhardy," Vilk chided. "Go back to bed. Tomorrow will be another day."

"But..." Luke turned his head to him.

"You're just not strong enough," Vilk's tone of voice was final. "Tomorrow, with more food inside you, you'll do much better," he met the beseeching blue eyes. "For what you've gone through and the state you're in, what you've done is remarkable. You'll be walking in a couple days, you'll see."

Vilk and Han dragged the young man back to the bed and helped him sit. Leaning back against the pillows, Luke wrapped the bed covers around his lower body.

"Well done," Vilk applauded sincerely. "Now rest a little before dinner. We'll try again tomorrow." He turned to Han. "Thanks for your help."

"Any time," Han said to the retreating doctor, who saluted them all before leaving the room.

Vader walked up to the foot of his son's bed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Luke started rubbing his thighs and legs briskly.

"My muscles are cramping a bit."

Vader walked over to the side of his child's bed. Gently, he pried the young man's hand away.

"You don't need to do that," he met the boy's eyes. "Lie back and close your eyes."

Luke stared at his father interrogatively.

Vader nodded.

"Trust me."

With a sweet smile, Luke obeyed.

"You don't need to say that. You know I trust you," he took a deep breath and relaxed.

Vader studied the placid face, shaking his head in wonder. Reaching out his hands, he placed them on his son's legs.

"It's astonishing," Luke whispered seconds later. "How're you doing that?"

"I'm channelling my strength to you," Vader said. "Better now?"

"My muscles aren't spasming anymore," Luke grinned, blinking his eyes open. He felt his legs with his hand. "Thank you, Father."

"You're welcome," Vader straightened up, placing his hand on top of the blond head affectionately.

Luke's adoring smile was cut short by a sudden thought.

"By the way, where's Leia?"

"Dunno," Han shrugged. "She said she had something very important to do."

"Oh," Luke's eyebrows arched at that. But a moment later, his eyes glazed over as something came to his mind. "Well, she had... She made some... difficult decisions when... When I was... I hope she's not in trouble with the High Command for it," for the first time, he seemed to realize the situation and turned frantic eyes to his friends. "Please, is she...? Is Leia...?"

"Easy, easy, kid! Don't get ahead of yourself," Han soothed him with one of his cocky grins. "Our Princess is one of the top leaders of the Alliance. That gives her sufficient leverage to sort things out to her convenience. I'm willing to bet she's got everything worked out already. Now calm down and forget about it."

Luke's eyes moved from Han to Lando and finally to Chewie. All of them nodded to him earnestly, doing their best to convince the convalescent young man there was nothing to worry about. Luke appeared to accept the Corellian's explanation and lay back, saving his strength.

Not daring to break the silence lest they upset the young Jedi more, everybody sat down and stared at the wall, immersed in their own thoughts. Vader took his seat beside his son's bed and took hold of his hand, knowing that his touch had a soothing effect on him - and knowing also that Luke's acquiescence was nothing but a temporary reprieve.

Leia turned up fifteen minutes later with a happy smile on her face. Her eyes sought Luke's.

"Congratulations!" she complimented him joyfully, "Dr. Vilk just told me you've..."

"Is everything all right, Leia?" the young man couldn't keep the anxiety from his voice. "Are you in trouble with Headquarters for what you've done for me?"

" _What?!_ " Leia asked, taken completely off guard by Luke's outburst. "No! Why do you say that?"

"Luke came up with the wild idea that you might've gotten into trouble with the High Command..." Han explained with an involuntarily arrogant tone of voice, trying to downplay the situation.

"Do NOT patronize me, Han," Luke warned the old pirate, looking daggers at him. "I'm not a fool to be tricked so easily."

 _'Luke, don't speak to your friend like that. You're not being fair,'_ Vader berated his child, deeply regretting that this confrontation was happening because of him.

Luke's head snapped to his father. Half-angry, half-hurt, his flushed face was a symphony of emotion.

"I don't know what's going on here," Leia chimed in, all authority, all composure, "but whatever gave you that idea, couldn't be further from the truth."

Everyone's heads turned to the Princess now.

"Yes, I talked to Mon Mothma," she nodded her confirmation. "I'm waiting for her to get back to me later, but I assure you all no one's in trouble here," she met the surprised blue depths. "Use the Force if you want. I've got nothing to hide."

The two youths stared deeply into each other's eyes, and Luke's agitation abated.

"I... I believe you," he said in a hoarse voice. "I'm very sorry, I thought you were trying to..."

"Keep you from the truth," Leia said the words for him. "Even if we tried, it would be useless, so why bother?" Leia shrugged matter-of-factly.

Luke had the good grace to blush at that. Then, he turned apologetic eyes to Han.

"Forgive me," he asked contritely.

Han waved his hand dismissively.

"Not one of my brightest moments either, kid. Forget it."

A long, comfortable silence followed. Vader squeezed his son's hand, immensely pleased to see that his boy didn't have an ounce of pride in his body. Blessed child.

Luke returned the pressure and rested his head on the pillows.

"This is worse than watching paint dry," he moaned a few minutes later, staring at the ceiling. "Pleaaaase!" he whined exaggeratedly.

"If you'll excuse me, master Luke," Threepio spoke for the first time, "I'm programmed with approximately seven billion jokes from all around the galaxy. If you wish, I can..."

"No, Threepio, thank you," Luke hurried to stop the well-meaning droid before he drove them all up the wall. "It's almost dinner time anyway."

Apparently, there _was_ something worse than being bored to tears, and that was hearing Threepio tell jokes. A rumble of muffled laughter filled the room.

Just then, the door opened and a robot nurse entered, carrying the bed tray with Luke's dinner. On seeing her, Luke covered his eyes with his hand.

"Don't tell me!" he exclaimed. "Let me guess..." he made a dramatic pause. "SOUP!"

Lando stood and took a peek at the dish.

"All too easy," he shook his head in a pretend disappointed gesture, and returned to his chair.

"Dr. Vilk wants you to know that your diet will be more varied tomorrow," the nurse reported.

"No kidding!" was Luke's instinctive response, grabbing the spoon. He wasted no time to ingest the so-called nourishment, and he actually sighed in relief when the nurse left with the tray. "I'm going to have nightmares tonight about the food that awaits me tomorrow," he dropped back on his pillows.

"Whatever it is, it can't be worse than what you had today," Han commented with a commiserating grimace.

"That's definitely NOT a comfort," Luke rubbed his eyes with his fingertips tiredly. A yawn escaped him and he covered his mouth with his hand. "Sorry."

"I think that's a sign for us to leave," Leia stood with a wink at the others, who followed suit.

"No!" Luke raised his head from the pillows. "I didn't mean to..."

With a loud laugh, Leia wrapped her arms around the long neck and kissed the flushed cheek.

"Rest now, Luke. You need it more than you think," she moved back and squeezed his shoulders. "I'm looking forward to being surprised by you tomorrow."

The young man flashed her a wide smile.

"I _will_ surprise you. I promise," he said, caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Goodnight you all. Thank you for keeping us company," he waved at the others.

Han, Lando, Chewie and the droids bade the young Jedi and his father goodnight, and left the room in high spirits.

* * *

"You told her _everything_?!" Han's voice raised in utter shock. "Leia, do you realize the possible consequences?" he asked helplessly.

Leia's body tensed at her beloved's words, but she didn't turn from her observation of the stars. She needed the peace they provided.

"I _do_ realize the possible consequences, Han," she nodded serenely. "Yes, contacting the Alliance's Headquarters was an impulsive reaction, but once I was informing Mon Mothma of the situation..." she sighed heavily and ended up shrugging, "...it just felt the right thing to do," she turned to her friends, "the _honest_ thing to do. Hiding the whole truth would only make matters worse, and besides..." she squared her shoulders. "I don't regret it one bit. Not one bit!"

Lando, Han and Chewie looked at each other. It was done now and there was no going back. They could only gave Leia all their support.

"And what did she say, exactly?" Lando asked the question uppermost in everyone's minds.

"We've been following a parallel course to the edge of the galaxy," Leia explained. "She ordered us to approach the Kathol Sector."

Han's features softened and he walked over to the Princess and held her small hands in his own. He bent down and kissed her forehead.

"No. What did she say about _him_? Did she believe you when you told her he's defected?" he smiled at her lovingly.

"Oh," Leia shook her head at her misinterpretation of Lando's question. It spoke volumes about her state of mind. "She did when I started relaying all the information he gave me," she looked away, remembering their candid and open conversation after that. "She asked me if I truly believed he'd changed, if I believed he could change at all, and I told her what I think." Her gaze turned inwards and conviction coloured her voice. "No; what I *know.* I told her about Luke's illness and what drove me to betray my every oath, everything I _am_ , to seek out Vader. I told her what I've seen, what I witnessed with my own eyes," she closed them at that, and a searing wave of guilt and remorse washed over her. "May the heavens forgive me, I told her they're Father and Son!"

A deadly silence befell the observation room.

"Leia..." Han's voice sounded as horrified as his face.

A sardonic sneer twisted the lovely features.

"I think that's when she _really_ started to believe me," she released his hands and walked away. "I suppose everything began to make sense then." She looked out of the wall-wide window once more. "It's strange, though," she mused aloud. "Somehow, I got the feeling there was something in her silence... in the faraway look in her eyes. An old history... Something that explained a lot of things for her." She shook herself out of her reverie. "Anyway, what do I know?"

"And that's when she told you she'd get back to you later?" Han walked up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"She promised to never reveal... their parentage to any other living soul," she lowered her voice, as if protecting Luke and Vader's secret even now. "But she had to discuss Vader's defection and the information he gave us with the Council," she straightened up, and the great leader of the Alliance was back for a moment. "A new strategy is in order. The safety of our Bothan spies is our primary concern. That and the new Death Star. There's a possibility that we could use the Emperor's plan to lure us in to our advantage." Her glassy eyes returned to the present. "But that's in the future. We'll talk again tomorrow and she'll let us know their decision."

She turned pained eyes to the man she loved.

"I think she's on our side, but who knows what...?"

"Shh," Han brought her close and wrapped his arms around her. "You did what you thought best. And maybe it'll also work out for the best. The Alliance is everything the Empire isn't. There's this little act of grace called 'pardon,' and for better or worse, the very foundations of it will be put to the test in Vader's case."

Leia's head moved away from Han's chest and she looked up at him.

"Do you think he's not deserving of...?

He shushed her with a finger to her lips.

"I'm saying that cases like this are the reason why the concept of pardon was created. Pardoning a man who stole food to feed his children poses no ethical conflict. But when we're dealing with a mass murderer, a war criminal who's left countless victims in his wake, here's where the system truly shows what it's made of," he stated vehemently.

Bursting with pride, Leia raised her eyebrows at him inquisitively, and the Corellian threw his head back, making his decision.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but if it depended on me..." he looked back down at her, "...I would pardon him," he nodded firmly. "Yes, I _do_ believe he's changed. I've observed him, I've spoken with him, I've seen the way he treats Luke, I've..." he looked away, deep in thought. "That's not the 'thing' that had me tortured and put in carbonite less than three months ago. The man in that room would lay down his life for his son without second thoughts," his voice softened and he smiled poignantly at his next thought. "Living will be punishment enough, I guarantee you that."

Leia gazed at him in wonder. No words could describe what she felt for that very special man. His compassion, his insight, his profound knowledge of the depths of the human soul and its capacity for the worst _and_ the best. If Han could forgive, maybe...

"Han speaks for me too."

Lando's voice sounded closer, and the couple turned their heads to him in unison.

"For what is worth, I will also support his pardon, if the time comes," Lando smiled kindly.

Chewie let out a few growls as he approached them, and Leia looked at Han enquiringly.

"He'll support Vader's pardon as well, and he says you did the right thing contacting the High Command."

Leia smiled as if the weight of the universe had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank you, Chewie," she uttered gratefully, eyes riveted on the gentle giant.

"By the way, what made you decide to contact them in the first place?" Han asked, turning curious eyes to her.

Leia bit her lower lip at that, her hesitation more than evident.

Chewie's eyes regarded her sympathetically and he answered for her.

The Princess' head moved from the Wookiee to Han.

The old smuggler's stance sobered instantly.

"Chewie said he could smell the scent of tears when we walked into the room," he turned back to Leia with a lump in his throat, as he put all the pieces together. "Was Luke crying when you entered?"

Leia looked away.

"Letting his father go is breaking his heart," she whispered in an unexpectedly steady voice. "He doesn't have any privacy with all of us around, and when I barged in with his slippers, he... he was..." she bit her lips again and her eyes misted. "I'd been considering whether I should tell the Alliance or not, but after..." she sniffled, "...I just... I just couldn't..." she shook her head in frustration.

Han held her cheek in his hand.

"I _do_ understand," he nodded.

Leia shrugged somewhat despondently.

"We can only wait now... And cross our fingers," she sighed dolefully.

The Corellian took her face in his hands and brought her even closer, smiling lovingly.

"The Empire doesn't know the meaning of words like mercy or clemency; the Alliance does. Those are the principles that will prevail. That's why we'll win this war. And with Luke's father on our side, it will be soon."

Leia smiled, warmed by his words and profoundly reassured by his confidence.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	15. Chapter 15

The morning dawned lazy and full of promise. Leia had breakfast before anyone else and hurried to visit her closest, dearest friend. She found him sitting up in bed already and finishing his breakfast.

"Good morning, early riser!" Luke greeted her with a big smile.

"Look who's talking!" Leia smiled back at him happily.

"Well, not technically," Luke amended her words with a chuckle.

Leia's eyes raised then to the massive black form standing closely beside his son. "Hello," she greeted him as well.

"Good morning," Vader returned her greeting politely.

She nodded at him and turned to the healthier-looking Jedi.

"What are you having?" she asked, staring at the yellow/orangish puree in Luke's plate.

"An apple puree," Luke replied. "I feel like a two-year-old, but it doesn't taste bad."

Leia studied the loved face.

"You look _much_ better today. The dark rings under your eyes are fading, and your cheeks are rounder," she grinned exultantly. "He's getting better by the hour," she addressed the young man's father.

"Yes, he is," Vader nodded his agreement. "He slept soundly all night."

"Good!" Leia nodded back gleefully.

"And you?" Luke asked her.

"I slept like a baby," Leia sat down in the chair at his bedside. "Things are getting back to normal, at last. By the way, do you want Dr. Senna to visit you later on?"

"Sure!" Luke nodded. "She's a wonderful person and I'll be glad to see her again."

"That's settled, then," Leia said, turning gentle brown eyes to Vader. "Do you have any objections to leaving the room...?"

"Of course not," Vader didn't let her finish. "You don't have to ask."

"Thank you," Leia smiled up at the Dark Lord.

The door slid open and the nurse rolled in. Luke leaned back against the pillows, making room for her to take the bed tray. She rolled away and the door closed after her.

"Any ideas to kill time?" Luke asked.

"Actually, I have one," Leia said, following an impulse. "Will you teach me to meditate?"

Veritably stunned, Vader and Luke stared at each other.

"D _o you mean it?!_ " Luke asked for the two of them.

"Yeah, _I mean it_ ," Leia replied calmly. "What's the matter? You're always talking about how I could use it to clear my mind and focus and all that," she blinked in confusion at their faltering. "Are you game or not?"

Father and Son looked at one another once more, and Leia could feel how they both reached the same decision at the same time.

"All right," Luke said, turning to Leia. "The first thing is getting ready. Your chair looks comfortable enough, so sit up straight and relax."

"You got it," Leia squirmed a little in her chair until she made herself as comfortable as possible. "Go on."

Vader took a seat in the chair on the other side of Luke's bed, and turned his eyes to his son.

"Shall we teach her by example?"

Luke's face brightened at the suggestion.

"I can't think of a better way to learn," he grinned at his father. He looked back at Leia, who was staring at them with an 'uh-oh' expression. He snickered. "Close your eyes. You'll see how easy it is."

"If you say so..." Leia trailed off warily, doing as she was told.

"Breathe deeply," Vader instructed. "Concentrate on the rhythm of your breathing, _listen_ to it, and shut out the reality around you."

"Don't worry about anything," Luke took over from his father, suspecting what Leia had to be feeling at the moment. "It'll be safe. You'll always be safe with us."

Leia smiled at that. Luke had always known how to put her mind at ease.

"I know," she whispered to them, opening her heart in a way she'd never allowed herself before.

"Keep breathing," Vader insisted. "In... Out... In... Out..." the cadence of his voice was almost hypnotic. "Feel yourself floating away... Floating... Away..."

"Now look for us," Luke took over again. "We're right there... Right at the edge of your consciousness..."

Father and Son closed their eyes at the same time, and even though this was their first time, they flowed into each other as if they had been meditating together all their lives. They met halfway in a triumphant burst of Light.

"I... I think I can feel something out there..." Leia muttered softly, not daring to speak louder for fear of breaking her concentration. "A light... A bright light all around..."

"Yes..." Vader nodded. "You are there too... Lingering... Just barely there..."

"Focus on us but don't try to reach for us," Luke warned her. "Just don't lose sight of us... Good! Now..."

"...Expand your consciousness. It's warm and soothing out there. You are a part of it... And it is a part of you..." Vader's voice shook with emotion.

"That's the Force, Leia. Can you feel it?" Luke asked in a choked whisper, overwhelmed by the ineffable beauty of it. The beauty of _them_ together. "We're all part of it. We all belong to each other in the Force... We're all one, we're all connected to the very fabric of the Universe..."

Leia's breathing was coming in short gasps. Faster and faster. It was heavenly. It was sublime. It was something that had to be felt to be believed! She wanted to cling to it, to be part of that all-encompassing Oneness... But the harder she reached for it the more elusive it became.

"No," Luke said, understanding Leia's aching need to touch that beauty in a _physical_ way. "Don't do that. Just experience it, let it soak your soul, give yourself to it, but don't reach for it... No, Leia..."

The young Princess had never, _never_ in her young life dreamed of an existence beyond the tangible reality that surrounded her. She'd never even conceived the possibility of an entire universe beyond her senses, beyond her very _self_. The shock of finding out just how much _more_ there was out there, something that could only be touched through the heart and the soul, was the single most transcendental moment of her life. And like a greedy child, she wanted to hold it close and never let go.

"No, Leia," Luke persisted. "Step back, step back..."

The connection was broken and Leia opened her eyes with a keening wail.

"No!" she moaned like a lost little girl. "It's so beautiful, sooo beautiful..." hopeless tears streamed down her face.

Luke and Vader surfaced from their joining with an unfathomable feeling of grief and loss. Luke let out an anguished sob and Vader immediately reached for him. He grabbed his son's shoulder for dear life and squeezed the beloved flesh, reassuring himself of its reality.

Leia held Luke's hand desperately. Only his touch assuaged the abysmal emptiness that opened before her.

"Is... Is this what you feel every time you...?" she whimpered out.

"No," Luke swallowed hard, too moved to find the words. "It wasn't supposed to be this intense, this... this..." he struggled to find the one word that would define...

"... _Much_ ," Father and Son spoke in unison.

"I don't understand it, either," Vader's voice came out in a harsh rasp of air. "For a first time, it's not normal. For some reason, we... fueled one another."

"I... I'm almost afraid to do it again," Leia's voice trembled with awe and wonder.

Luke turned breathtakingly open eyes to his father. Vader nodded, perfectly attuned to his child's thoughts and feelings.

"Next time, it needs to happen in a more controlled environment. You will be out of bed and well on your way to full recovery," he told his son, "and you," he set his eyes on Leia next, "you must learn to reign in your emotions and not give yourself to them. It is not wise to commune with the Force with such unbridled level of passion."

"I never... I never knew..." tears filled the Princess' eyes.

"I know," Luke squeezed her hand. "You wanted to share in with us. But we were there as mere observers, to guide you in your first steps, not to join you."

Leia looked down, too shaken to say another word.

"We must take it slowly," Luke decided. "And act more professionally."

"I concur," Vader agreed. "But I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. It was beyond illuminating. It was..."

"Momentous," Luke turned loving eyes to his father and his dearest friend. He brought his hand to his heart, almost protectively. "I never knew it could be like this either. It was a... defining moment in my life. And I don't even know why." His eyes embraced the man who'd sired him. Their already unbreakable bond had grown far beyond their selves, beyond the Force itself, and he knew he couldn't exist without it. Not anymore.

Vader strengthened his mental shields, trying to reinforce the thin barrier between him and his child. He _had_ to keep them apart, if only a little, or their future separation would shatter them.

 _'I'm doing it for you, Luke. Forgive me. My cherished little one, if you only knew how much I need this too. If you only knew how much I've craved for it! A kindred spirit that dispelled my fears and chased away my demons. If you only knew how much it's costing me to deny you!'_

Leia's misted eyes observed them with a blending of understanding, heartbreak and dispirited resignation. She tried to fumble her way out of the outpouring of emotions they were unknowingly raining on her, but it was already too late. Those emotions were a part of her now.

She had to help. She _needed_ to help them put an end to this pointless misery. But she couldn't imagine how.

The door slid open and Han, Lando, Chewie and the droids made their appearance, much to the relief of the three people in the room.

"Hello, everybody!" Han greeted them, displaying all the charm and easygoing affability that always broke the ice and put everyone at ease. That was his gift, and one that all those in the room thoroughly revelled in.

Vader, Luke and Leia shared a knowing look and a fond smile crossed the two young faces.

"What?" the Corellian asked, looking from one to the other.

Shaking her head, the Princess laughed delightedly, wrapped her arms around his torso and rising up quickly on tiptoe, kissed him on the cheek.

"Nothing, Han. Please, don't ever change."

The space pirate stared at her raising a suspicious eyebrow, but reading on her face that she meant every word, he just accepted them like the compliment they were.

"All right, I won't," he shrugged lightheartedly, taking her small hand in his. "How was your breakfast, kid?" he turned to Luke with a kind smile.

"Tolerable," Luke answered. "An apple puree."

"So now you've graduated to baby food?" he couldn't let such a priceless opportunity to tease his younger friend slide.

Luke threw him a withering look and Han's teasing smile widened.

"I may be the one eating baby food, but you're the one with a two-year old's brain," he countered drily.

"You're just jealous because I had Nubian chocolate for breakfast," Han wriggled his eyebrows at him comically.

Luke rolled his eyes.

Considering himself the victor in their verbal sparring, Han turned to the others.

"What do you people want to...?"

Before he finished his question, the door opened and Dr. Vilk walked in.

"I think I might know the answer to your question," he said, looking straight at him.

"Oh," Han tilted his head to one side.

Vilk walked over to his patient's bed, grabbed the bedcovers and threw them aside.

"Off the bed, young man!" he ordered. "You know the drill," he turned his head to Han again. "I think you might feel more comfortable if your friends helped you this time," he included Lando in his sweeping glance.

Both men stepped forward readily and went to Luke's bedside.

Luke slid over to the edge of his bed and put on his slippers. Han and Lando placed themselves each side of him and Luke wrapped his arms around each man's shoulders, rising to his feet somewhat unsteadily.

"Let's go," he braced himself and nodded to his friends.

Putting one foot in front of the other, the young man gave his first steps of the day.

"How does it feel?" Leia asked, grinning from ear to ear. This was the first time in weeks she got to see her dear friend on his feet, and she felt like rubbing her eyes to convince herself she wasn't dreaming.

"Weird," Luke replied. "I feel stronger than yesterday but also somewhat light-headed."

"Your sense of balance is a bit off after lying in bed for so long," Vilk reminded him. "When you get back your muscle tone you'll be walking around on your own in a minute."

Luke stared at him with a hopeful smile.

"Come on, keep going!" Vilk urged him, moving his hand impatiently.

With Han and Lando's help, Luke walked around the room back and forth. A couple minutes later, he sat down on his bed and looked up at his friends and his father.

"Definitely better," he stated, smiling widely.

Vilk gazed at him proudly.

"It's miracles like this that put us doctors in our place, so we never forget to give hope a chance, even in the direst of circumstances," his eyes turned to Leia and utter shame crossed his features. "You taught me a lesson of faith in the face of utter defeat that I'll never forget. If it hadn't been for your refusal to give up, this young man wouldn't be with us today. I want to apologize for my dogmatic viewpoint that almost led me to make a fatal mistake."

Leia's eyes softened.

"I don't blame you in any way, doctor," she shook her head. "Not that long ago, I'd simply have followed your advice. It just wasn't in the cards," her brown depths turned to Luke and then to Vader. "I had an ace up my sleeve that I wasn't even aware of."

Vilk followed her gaze to the Dark Lord. Unquestionably, Vader had played a crucial role in his patient's recovery. His fierce solicitousness and tender care had nurtured the young man back to health.

But it went far beyond that. Far beyond any medical explanation. Something he'd witnessed with his own eyes. There was an eerie connection between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker that spoke of something so abiding and profound that rose above moral standpoints and political loyalties.

He was no fool, he knew there was more to the Imperial's presence aboard than anyone was letting on. Something very personal that explained everything. He'd come up with several scenarios, some of them so outrageous and improbable that he'd discarded them as soon as they'd crossed his mind.

Whatever it was, he really didn't care. All he needed to know was that thanks to that unlikely bond the young man was alive, and while they were at it, maybe some steps had been taken to stop this galactic carnage.

He nodded to the kind-hearted Princess who'd accepted his apology in such a gracious manner. Clearing his throat, he turned to his miracle patient sitting lazily on his bed.

"I'll return in the evening to supervise your second walk of the day," he winked at Luke, unable to hold back his joy and satisfaction.

"I'm looking forward to it, doctor," Luke winked back at him with a nod.

Vilk left the room as Luke got back in bed, covering himself up to his waist.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at his friends. "Could someone please give me a glass of water? I'm suddenly thirsty."

Leia filled a glass and handed it to him. The young man drank it dry.

"Thank you," he gave her back the glass.

The rest of the morning and the early afternoon were spent in idle chitchat. They talked about nothing and everything, totally at ease with each other, participating in the conversation whenever any of them had something to contribute, not once stopping to think of what they were doing actually meant.

At some point, Leia took a look at her chrono and met Han's eyes with a fast nod.

"If you'll excuse me," she began, rising from her seat, "I gotta go. The transmission from High Command should be coming any minute now."

Immediately, Luke's eyes opened wider and he sat up straighter in his bed, staring at her with a troubled look.

"Don't make puppy eyes at me," Leia smiled at him, squeezing his hand lightly. "I told you everything's fine and you know I'm not lying. We were told to approach the Kathol Sector and now I must know what our next move is going to be. Take it easy, all right?" she smiled at him warmingly.

"All right," Luke acceded reluctantly, releasing her hand.

With a nod to all those in the room, the Princess left.

Han, Lando and Chewie, who knew what else was at stake, made a conscious effort to not look at each other, lest they'd give themselves away. Lando resumed the conversation trying to get the others to join in, which they did, all too enthusiastically.

Vader observed the three friends, reading them like an open book. Something else was happening there that Luke and him had been told. And knowing this group's incurable idealism, it had to be something extremely juvenile, stupid, or both.

Blast it, he liked them more and more! What would he give to have been surrounded with people like them in his youth. Maybe then... But it was all wishful thinking. He was the sole responsible for his wrong choices and anyway, the past couldn't be changed.

But he _could_ help create a better future for these extraordinary beings, and he would, no matter the cost to himself.

The animated conversation stretched on for over half an hour. Luke participated in it with monosyllables, throwing his father occasional interrogative – and worried - glances, that Vader did his best to ease with soft touches on his child's hand or shoulder, soothing him as much as he could.

Finally, the door slid open and a googly-eyed Princess walked in. She bore the expression of someone who'd just received the most shocking, unexpected news that had left them reeling and unable to react. She looked around and for a moment, it seemed she didn't recognize anyone in the room; but composing herself quickly, she took a deep breath and got back her bearings.

"Leia, is everything all right?" Luke was the first to speak, somehow managing to find the words faster than anybody else. "What did Headquarters say?"

Seeing everyone's tense faces broke the young woman out of her paralysis, and she shook her head.

"Oh, oh, yeah," she coughed a couple times and swallowed. "We are to remain in this sector and wait for further instructions."

"And it took them that long to say that to you?" Luke's eyebrows raised suspiciously. "Leia..."

"I met Dr. Senna in the northern corridor," Leia said abruptly, deliberately misleading her friends into believing that was the reason why she'd been delayed. "She's waiting for me to give her the go ahead. Would you like for her to visit you now?"

"Well... Sure, but..." Luke began, totally thrown for a loop by Leia's bizarre behaviour.

"Great!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands once. "Will you all come with me?" she told the others, holding out her hand and turning to the door. "The room's sufficiently crowded as it is."

After a couple seconds of indecision, humans, Wookiee and droids made for the door.

"You two can stay," Leia told Artoo and Threepio. "Keep Luke company while I tell Auren to come in."

The droids looked at each other and obeyed, huddling around Luke's bed, who just watched the others go with the most puzzled look on his face.

Vader was the last to leave his son's room. He was all too aware of the fact that the Princess hadn't spared a single look at him since she'd walked in. Something had clearly happened during the course of that transmission that concerned him. Something not necessarily good, judging from the young woman's demeanour.

Had the Princess revealed to the Council that he was on board? At this point in time, he strongly doubted she'd done anything to jeopardize his already precarious position, but still...

The instant the door closed after them she turned to him with a serious look on her face.

"Let's go to the observation room. There's something I have to tell you." She reached for the intercom and activated it. "Auren?" she called.

There was a second of static and then a soft woman's voice replied.

"Yes, I'm here."

"Luke's waiting for you," she looked at Vader with a nod.

"Thank you! I'm on my way," the unashamed happiness in the feminine voice told the Dark Lord that its owner was another good and kind person who truly cared about his child.

All of a sudden, whatever the Princess' news turned out to be, it didn't really matter. His son was very much loved by many. He would never be alone.

The notion warmed his heart. There was a certain peace in not being responsible for his own life anymore. Whatever his Destiny was, it lay in the arms of the Force.

He could live with that.

Leia made a sharp gesture with her head and the others followed her out to the long corridor, heading at a brisk pace for the observation room.

* * *

The Princess drew a quick intake of breath and turned to the four people who'd walked in behind her. She looked at them directly in the eyes before settling her gaze on the big form right in front of her. She breathed hard again and plunged ahead.

"It is my duty to inform you that you've been officially pardoned by the Alliance. As a defector, and taking into account the vast amount of invaluable information you gave us, you've been granted political asylum, effective immediately."

The ensuing silence in the room was thunderous. A silence filled with such astonishment and complete disbelief that it took seconds for the first person to react.

"W-What did you say?"

The young woman allowed herself to show the crooked smile she'd been holding back for minutes.

"You heard me. Now, is there anything _you_ want to say?"

Lando, Han and Chewie looked alternately from the Sith Lord to the Princess, trying to grasp what had just happened there. Out of all the possible and probable outcomes, this was the wildest, most unimaginable one. And also the most practical and outright functional. It allowed the Alliance to save face after pardoning a criminal, while at the same time making the most audacious statement of compassion for those who bothered to look below the surface.

Vader appeared to have been rendered speechless by the Rebellion's decision, and no sound came out of him.

On the other hand, Han did seem to have something to say.

"You knew he'd been pardoned all along, and you left Luke agonizing over what was going on?!" he stared at the woman he loved in sheer incredulity.

Leia's gaze hardened on hearing those words, and a flash of hurt showed in her eyes.

"I have my reasons," she simply said, turning her head to her friend's father. "I want to know what are your intentions now that you're under no obligation to prove anything. Not to the Alliance, not to us, and certainly not to Luke," her brown depths burned with a clear intent.

Vader scrutinized the Princess' expression, slowly coming to the realization of what she was expecting from him. The Alliance's bold decision made more difficult for him to stick to the choice he'd made, and she was waiting for his next rationalization of it.

She would get no justifications or excuses from him. She would get the truth as he saw it. Nothing more, nothing less. He breathed deeply and spoke in earnest.

"I do appreciate the lengths you've gone to to ensure my safety, and I'm sincerely grateful to you and your High Council. However, my original decision stands."

"Even though it serves no purpose anymore?" Leia asked, pulling back emotionally from him in disappointment.

"We do not know that," Vader pointed out. "It is to your credit that you're all willing to risk your reputation, but we know that not everyone will be so forgiving. Your commitment to the Rebellion will be questioned by many the moment your association with me is made public."

A bittersweet smile crossed the beautiful features.

"We both know there are... ways around that inconvenience," Leia's eyes gleamed knowingly. "No suit, new prostheses, a new identity as Luke Skywalker's long lost father, and nobody will ever know who you used to be."

It was Vader's turn to smile poignantly.

"Secrets and lies have the nasty habit of coming out sooner or later, and always in the worst way imaginable. I will _not_ let my child or any of you endanger your position pursuing a pipe dream," his tone was final. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like to spend my last hours aboard this ship in my son's company," he bowed his head courteously to all those in the room and turned about.

"Auren could still be with him!" Leia bit her lips the instant the words were out of her mouth. _'Fool! Stupid, stupid fool! You just made the most persuasive speech to convince him that there's a place for him in the Alliance, and in the next heartbeat you negated your own argument. FOOL!'_

Vader's shoulders hunched imperceptibly, but he quickly squared them again.

"I can sense everything going on in that room," he stated with his back turned to them. "Believe me, she's _not_ in there anymore." And with five long strides, he was gone.

* * *

A disheartening feeling of failure lingered after the Dark Lord's departure. Leia walked up to the wall-wide window and looked out for a few seconds. Then, impulsively, she punched the glass.

"Blast it. Blast it!" she exclaimed angrily.

"Pardon me for saying so, honey," Han approached the Princess and squeezed her shoulder apologetically, "but you screwed up with that..."

"I know, Han, I know! You don't have to remind me," the young woman walked away and began to pace the room in frustration. "I _knew_ what he was going to say, and I thought I had a perfect counterargument for any pretext he'd throw at me," she stopped and looked down, shaking her head dejectedly. "Obviously, I underestimated him." She sought the comfort of the stars again and leaned her forehead against the glass.

Sighing, the Corellian joined her looking out. Chewie and Lando walked up behind them protectively.

"Why's he doing it?" he asked at last in true bafflement. "Did you feel anything from him using your... you know...?"

His almost superstitious hesitation brought a wry smile to Leia's lips. She moved back and stood straight.

"My... abilities aren't that honed yet. I can barely concentrate enough to feel... whatever it is I feel. Feelings, thoughts, sensations, moods... It's not second-nature yet, so I didn't use it."

"Sorry," Han said.

Her face turned pensive gradually.

"Still..." she spoke distractedly. "He's... confused... Torn. Lost. As if..."

"As if...?" Han prompted. He knew her. Force-sensitive or not, she'd always had an uncanny ability to read people. The most minute signs were a bright red light to her. That enabled her to understand people's fears and turn them into strengths. That's what made her such a great leader.

"As if..." she nibbled her lips, "...he didn't want to believe... No, as if he couldn't bring himself to believe..."

"That we're being sincere?" Han thought that was the craziest notion _ever_. "Come on..."

"No, no! He _knows_ we're absolutely honest," Leia corrected him. "That's the only thing he's positive of. I think he believes it's all too easy. Too easy for someone like him to be pardoned."

"Well, we all agree on that," Lando's blunt words didn't belie the softness beneath.

"So, he's being difficult because he thinks we've been too lenient?!" Han's eyes looked about to pop out of his head.

"It runs deeper than that," the certainty in Leia's words told everyone that she was on the right track. "He can't bring himself to believe he..." she searched deep inside herself. What was the Sith Lord working so hard at hiding from them, from _her_? He knew it was useless. His love for Luke was written all over his mask and they both knew it. What was the ultimate truth that was keeping him from embracing that love wholeheartedly? "That... That he... _deserves Luke's love_ ," she spoke in a rush.

That-was-it! Finally!

Han drew back in shock. It made sense! Holy mother of droids! It actually _made sense_!

The Corellian dug deep into Leia's statement and ended up shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

"It wasn't his choice to make and it's too late for that, anyway. Luke's love is gonna stay with him for as long as he lives," he shrugged casually. "So, he'd better accept it and stop making both their lives miserable."

"Unfortunately, the human psyche doesn't work like that," Leia reminded them. "I don't know a thing about his past - only a few assumptions here and there - but his current conflict _is_ rooted in that past, not only in his incapacity to accept Luke's love after all the evil he's done."

"Well, as I said, he'd better sort it out," Han shrugged once more, "'cause he's _not_ going to hurt Luke again," the decisiveness in his voice was absolute.

Leia's eyes softened at her beloved's keen protectiveness and ingenuity.

"Didn't you hear what he said?" she asked with weary, sad eyes. "His 'last hours aboard this ship.'" She made a pause for the words to sink in. "He's leaving shortly. Probably tomorrow."

Han started back.

"He wouldn't dare!" he exclaimed in offense. "The kid can't even stand on his own feet yet!"

"Wanna bet?" Leia met the green-brown eyes pointedly.

They looked deep into each other's souls, and Han lowered his head in acknowledgement.

"I'm afraid she's right, buddy," Lando agreed with the Princess.

"Yes," Han nodded. "It kills me to admit it, but yes. That's what he's going to do."

Chewie's small growls had everybody looking at him.

Han stared at his hairy friend, very impressed by his profound insight.

"He says that Vader must learn to forgive himself first. He must believe in his right to be loved, despite everything."

Leia gazed at the giant Wookiee in amazement, and a new light shone in her eyes.

"That's _so_ true, Chewie," she nodded wonderingly. "But he needs time for that. And that's the one thing he won't give himself... Or Luke."

The disheartening feeling of failure turned into pure helplessness.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	16. Chapter 16

The Dark Lord entered his son's room only to find him sliding out of bed and standing on frighteningly shaky legs. The two droids hovered close protectively.

"...Master Luke..." Threepio was saying nervously, "...I don't think you should..."

Just then, the young man's knees buckled and he began to fall.

Vader was beside his child in a split second, holding him up against him oh-so-gently.

"Foolish boy! Where do you think you're going?" he asked angrily.

"There are things a man has to do in private, all right?!" Luke exploded. His face was bright red, and not only in anger. "My bladder's going to burst!"

Vader cleared his throat out loud at that.

"All right. I'll walk you to the bathroom," he said. "Hold on to me."

"Fine," Luke replied drily.

Slowly, the two men started for the door.

"Your friend Dr. Senna didn't stay long," Vader commented to break the silence.

"She'd just arrived when they brought lunch," Luke nodded to his bed.

Vader turned his head and saw the tray with the almost empty plate on it.

"A carrot puree," Luke answered the unvoiced question. "And no more baby food jokes, please."

"Who, me?!" Vader asked rhetorically. "Rodent food, more like," he mumbled under his breath.

Luke's head snapped up and the boy looked at his father with a mixture of indignation and bewilderment. In the end, bewilderment won out.

"Enjoy your victory while you can... bucket head," he mumbled back. The corners of his lips began to twitch upwards.

The rumble of laughter in their chests made them shake a little as they walked, highlighted by Artoo's happy beeping sounds.

"Anyway," Luke continued when they were only a few paces away from the door, "this time, the puree was really bland and tasteless. When I mentioned it, Dr. Senna remembered an old family recipe for carrot puree, and she left to look for it."

"Very considerate of her," Vader commended.

"Yeah," Luke nodded his total agreement. "I told her it wasn't necessary, but she was adamant."

The door slid open before them. Vader released his child little by little, making sure he could stand without help. Luke leaned against the doorframe and turned to his father with an anxious look in his eyes.

"Everything's all right, my son," Vader cupped the young face in his palm and caressed the soft cheek with his thumb. "It's good news. I'll tell you when you come out." At Luke's pleading look, he spoke with emphasis. "Trust me," he smiled beneath his mask.

The change in the sweet face was immediate. The boy smiled back at him and with an eager nod, he walked into the restroom. The door closed after him.

* * *

When Luke's friends returned, the young Jedi was sitting up in bed and already looking in their direction. As soon as he saw the Princess, his eyes lit up.

"Leia," he called her softly.

"Yes?" the Princess approached him solicitously.

The instant she was within reach, Luke wrapped her in a tight, grateful hug, burying his face in her neck.

"Thank you, thank you. Thank you!" he blurted over and over. "How will I ever repay you for what you've done? You risked so much... Oh, Leia, thank you! Thank you!"

"All right, all right," Leia tried to tone down the level of emotion. She hugged him back hard. "There are no debts between us, you know it," she kissed the side of his head and moved back, grabbing him by his upper arms. "We're family. All of us!" she included them all in her glance. "We take care of each other, we protect each other. That's what it's all about."

Luke stared at her adoringly and nodded, blinking back tears.

There was a brief pause as the two youths pulled themselves together.

"So!" Han cleared his throat and spoke with apparent disinterest. "Now that your father's been pardoned by the Alliance, do you know what are his immediate plans?"

Luke paled at that. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second and his breathing hitched. He looked down, trying to compose himself discreetly. His expression hardly changed at all, but the stab of searing pain at the Corellian's question was plain as day for all of them to see.

Vader put his hand on his child's shoulder and squeezed it, offering all the comfort he could.

"My son has known about my plans for days now. It is not about one's personal wishes, but about doing what is right. He knows I need to do this, not only for him or myself, but for all the lives that might be saved. I will be the Alliance's last line of defense in the very heart of the Empire."

Luke swallowed hard and nodded at his father's words, not daring to meet his friends' eyes.

"Is that so, Luke?" Leia stepped closer and pierced the young man's eyes with her own.

Luke bit his lips for a moment and then braved the Princess' brown depths resolutely.

"Yes," he said in a thick voice. "He told me he needed to do it this way and I respect his decision. He will always have my support."

The firmness in his voice fooled no one. The young man was bleeding inside, and his inner pain seeped through every word.

Han turned around, casting a fast look at Lando and Chewie. Shaking his head in irritation, he looked down.

"Stupid, self-sacrificing martyrs. Idiots!" he grumbled to himself.

If someone heard him, whatever reply they had in mind was silenced by the abrupt entrance of one of the nurses. She picked up the tray on Luke's bed and rolled away smoothly.

Once alone again, the group scattered all around the room. Han and Lando took seats, Chewie remained standing, leaning back against the wall, and Leia chose her favourite seat beside Luke's bed. Vader stood poised at his son's bedside, needing to be near him.

The young Princess made a superhuman effort to not use the Force in the Sith Lord's presence. She wanted to 'feel' as much as she could without letting it show, and it was proving to be extremely difficult. Not only because she was dealing with a masked man, but because Vader was doing _everything_ to hide his true frame of mind from them.

That effort alone said a lot, but she still needed to know what was pushing Vader to inflict so much pain on the two of them. What was he running away from so desperately? Why did he feel it necessary to leave Luke behind? What did he _fear_?

She observed him inconspicuously, and the more she did the less sense everything made. Every tiny little gesture, every tilt of the helmeted head, every look he cast upon his son _cried out_ his absolute devotion to him.

Taking into consideration the fact that he'd been pardoned and there was no need to hide his presence aboard anymore, that to all intents and purposes he was a member of the Rebel Alliance now, she could only conclude that whatever the reason, it had to do _with_ Luke.

But that was just insane. Why would a free man choose to return to the Rancor's den? The Emperor's prowess in the Dark Side was just a convenient subterfuge. As powerful as he was, he was one single individual. He couldn't touch Luke, especially if the entire Rebellion and all those strong in he Force rallied around him. And if the Empire was defeated, Palpatine's fate would be sealed.

 _'Why are you doing it?'_ she wondered for the umpteenth time. _'Luke's the most precious thing in the Universe to you. Why are you doing this to him, and yourself? Are you afraid that some harm might come to him? If so, what kind of harm? With a new identity as Anakin Skywalker, both of you would be safe. What is it, then? What?!'_

She closed her eyes and shook her head, focusing on the few things she'd learned about Vader _before_ he became Vader. Looking for anything that explained his inexplicable behaviour.

 _'He was the poster boy of the Old Republic. 'The Hero With No Fear.''_

 _'Jedi weren't allowed to marry.'_

 _'He was wise beyond his years, but he'd paid a price for that wisdom.'_

 _'They lived a life of seclusion and retirement.'_

 _'...there was something behind his eyes... Something that spoke of... of a soul in pain. He was deeply scarred inside.'_

Her eyes opened and she concentrated on Vader's body language, thinking about the young man he'd been once. The _person_ Auren's words had portrayed. An unconventional Jedi Knight going against the rules and restrictions of the Jedi Order to be just a man; a man in love with a woman... And how it all had turned out.

 _'My goodness!'_ she cried out inside her head all of a sudden. _'Could it really be that simple?'_

If his going against the rules had ended up badly and he'd turned to the Dark Side, which in turn had resulted in Luke's mutilation and suffering years later... Could he be leaving for fear of causing him more harm, albeit unwittingly?

 _'Is that it? Are you leaving because you followed your heart once and everything went wrong? Are you afraid because love only brought you conflict and pain? Because you lost your faith in yourself and in your capacity to make anyone happy? Because you're afraid that your love will destroy Luke one day?'_

She'd never felt _anything_ as strongly as the certainty that swelled deep within her. And it was equally disturbing to realize how much she sympathised with Vader's dilemma. It made him so imperfect. So vulnerable. So _human_.

It made him one of them. No more, no less.

How to make him understand that life is learning from your mistakes? How to convince him that not only he _could_ make someone happy, but that just by existing he was making someone happy _already_? How to make him see what he wasn't allowing himself to see?

Too much horror. Too much trauma. Too much fear.

Too much.

Her eyes turned inconspicuously to the man she loved. As if on cue, Han met her gaze and just looking into those open, compassionate depths, she knew he was thinking along the same lines.

They shook their heads in unison, the message loud and clear between them.

Luke's audible sigh brought their attention back to him. The young man slid down in the bed a little, resting his head tiredly on the pillow and closing his eyes. Apparently, he'd decided that oblivion was preferable to knowing his time with his father was almost over.

The minutes stretched on in complete silence. Luke's almost instant sleep revealed that there was still a trace of weakness in him. What kind of weakness though, from the body or the spirit, was anyone's guess.

Totally lost in his son's essence and forgetting that anything else existed around him, Vader reached out and sank his fingers in the luminous blond hair. He massaged the warm scalp lovingly, comfortingly.

 _'I'd happily spend the rest of my life like this, angel,'_ he admitted to himself. _'So many wasted years! Years that won't return. What would I give for just one minute of your time as a newborn, as a toddler, as an inquiring small child. What would I give for one spontaneous, joyful hug from my little one. Oh, Luke,'_ he exclaimed feverishly, _'what would I give to grant you your heart's desire! But I'm afraid of yielding to my needs. Every time I clung to an earthly love, I lost it. My mother. Your mother. I lost yet another piece of myself until there was nothing left. I can't allow myself to need you because sooner or later, it'll cost you dearly. I know it will.'_

His fingers moved again and cupped the top of the adored head in a mute blessing.

 _'Force, help me! Help me! Help me!'_

The door opened startlingly and a sweet-faced, enthusiastic woman burst in, carrying a small datapad in her hand.

"Sorry it's taken me forev-" she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the crowded room. Her bulging eyes looked around, taking in the humans, the droids and the Wookiee. And standing at Luke Skywalker's bedside like a menacing black angel... She gasped aloud.

"I... I-I... I-I'm..."

"It's all right, Auren," Leia recovered swiftly from the unexpected surprise, and rose from her seat with a soft smile.

Swallowing soundly, Dr. Senna found her voice.

"I-I brought the recipe for c-carrot puree," she explained clumsily. "I forgot where I put it and it took me ages to find it..." she looked behind her at the door. "N-No one stopped me when I entered the waiting room, so I just..."

Leia put her hand on her friend's shoulder, calming her.

"It *is* all right," she repeated, taking the datapad from her grasp, and following her gaze to the giant cyborg standing guard beside his son in the most unthreatening way. "He defected from the Empire and he's been granted asylum by the Headquarters."

Mesmerized by the unthinkable image before her, Auren's eyes were inevitably drawn to the gloved fingers buried in the fluffy light hair. Immediately, the flash of a never forgotten memory twisted her insides. The image of another gloved hand on top of a little boy's head, caressing it in _exactly_ the same manner.

With a kind, knowing smile, Leia nodded at the Sith Lord.

"This is Dr. Auren Senna. She was my friend and my rock when I had no one to turn to."

Reaching out his free hand, Vader nodded courtly at the newcomer.

"It is good to meet you, Dr. Senna," he greeted her. "I appreciate all your efforts and your help."

Auren's features softened. She stepped forward unhesitatingly and shook the proffered hand, noticing how the other hand on top of the sleeping young man's head stayed in place, as if it couldn't let go.

And right then, everything clicked.

Two and a half decades later.

"I am very pleased to meet you _again_... Anakin Skywalker," she replied, staring at him with the same feeling of wonder despite... everything.

The impact of that name, spoken loudly for the first time since Vader's arrival, dealt a brutal blow to the last psychological barrier in everybody's minds.

Curiously, it was the Dark Lord who appeared unfazed by being addressed like that.

"Have we met before?" Vader tipped his head to one side curiously.

Auren rolled her eyes and shook her head self-mockingly, releasing his hand.

"Once, in the streets of Coruscant 25 years ago. A bunch of kids and teenagers with a bad case of hero-worshipping."

Vader focused all his senses on her and out of the blue, it was _there_ , in his mind's eye.

"Outside the Art Museum?" he asked.

"Yes," Auren breathed in utter awe.

Vader smiled poignantly.

"An eternity ago. Another life. A different person."

Auren shook her head, experiencing an infinite compassion for the human being trapped inside that suit... and his own feelings of unworthiness.

"The _same_ person," she dropped her gaze to the hand on top of the sleeping youth's head. "Beaten down by life and the weight of his unspeakable actions. Older and wiser. Deeply scarred and yet hopeful. With a heart brimming with love, aching for a place to put it," reaching out, she laid her hand on top of his. "And now that you found it," she squeezed hard, "never let it go." She slowly moved her hand back and smiled at him benevolently. "It healed him already. Let it heal you too."

Vader looked at her, tired and soul-weary.

"I don't think I can. I don't think I ever will."

Auren shook her head again, this time in disappointment.

"It would be a pity. You overcame so much. Giving up would be inconceivable to the Anakin Skywalker I met once."

Vader shook his head at that.

"There's nothing left of that man anymore. Just ashes... And death."

"Are you sure about that?" Auren's understanding smile brought Vader's attention back to the one who'd started everything, just as she intended. "Look at him... And say it again."

Vader couldn't take his eyes away from the sleeping form. So powerless, so innocent, so heartbreakingly perfect... It made him want to die.

"Think about it before giving up. The only thing standing in your way is yourself."

The Sith Lord just stared... and stared. Motionless like a statue.

Auren suddenly turned her gaze to Leia.

The Princess smiled through clouded eyes, feeling that her friend had given voice to all the words that wouldn't come as easily to her. Auren's moment with Vader had been a profoundly enlightening experience. She had touched the core of Vader's misgivings, and how his deep-seated feelings of self-loathing kept him from embracing the chance at redemption that Luke embodied.

As a psychiatrist and as someone very much in touch with her own emotions, she was the perfect person to have this conversation with. Maybe she would succeed where all of them, Luke included, had failed.

Feeling she had overstepped her boundaries and somewhat self-conscious, Auren shared a passing glance with the others. Their looks of quiet respect and admiration made her drop her gaze.

"I'll give you back your privacy now. Excuse the intrusion."

She braved a final look at the exhausted but still radiant young man in the bed, noticing that even in his sleep his head was turned towards... _his father._

"He suffered so much. He deserves all the happiness he can get." She sighed and nodded her leave before exiting the room.

A deferential, humble silence followed her departure. Everyone's thoughts turned inward, slowly digesting what had just happened there.

Auren's brief visit had been an eye opener in many ways. It was incredible how big a difference a single word – or two - spoken at the right moment, could make.

Sensing everyone's eyes on him like daggers, Vader's hand withdrew bit by excruciating bit. When it lost all contact with his son's flesh, it hung loosely at his side like a broken puppet, turning into a fist. His whole body tensed and he stepped back from the bed. He turned to look at the wall, as if his mask couldn't hide him enough from the others' prying eyes.

 _'Force, what can I do now?!'_

"What am I going to do?"

Realizing that he'd spoken out loud and uncovered his most secret weakness _was_ the last straw. His breathing started coming in increasingly rapid gasps, more and more, until he was hyperventilating. Finally, exploding in a short, inhuman cry, he kneeled at his child's bedside, holding the beloved head between his hands with a raw, frantic plea.

 _'Say the word! Say the word and I-... I'll...'_

"No!" he exclaimed, releasing his son as if his very touch burned him, which woke up the boy with a start. "NO! NO!" he shouted, bolting from the room.

On the verge of a heart attack, Luke could only watch his father leave at breakneck speed.

"Father! Father, wait!" he yelled instinctively. When the door closed after him, he turned uncomprehending, scared eyes to his friends.

Snapping, Leia rushed for the door.

"Stay here!" she told the others, dashing after Vader.

* * *

Once out in he corridor, she didn't see the Dark Lord anywhere. Blast it, he _was_ fast in that suit!

But she knew just where to find him. At a slow, sedate pace, she headed for the observation room. Right before stepping in though, she paused and braced herself for the upcoming confrontation.

Vader stood framed against the backdrop of stars, palms flat on the glass window and head bent down.

She approached him noiselessly and stopped a couple paces behind him, wondering how to start.

"There's no need to do what you're doing and you know it," she finally said in a kind but admonishing tone. "You're punishing yourself, and what's worse, you're punishing Luke too," she frowned sadly. "You're hurting him and I know it's killing you."

Vader stood still, not moving one millimetre.

"You want to stay with him," she stated unwaveringly. "You..." she looked up at the ceiling, opening her heart to the words. "...You can't _envision_ life without him, and yet..."

"You know _nothing_ about me," Vader cut her short. "You know _nothing_ about my life," he growled from his depths. "You can't possibly have the slightest idea..."

"Fear," Leia summed up, shrugging nonchalantly. "You're terrified of harming him in any way. You're terrified of love, of loving someone, because when you gave yourself to that emotion, something went horribly wrong... Maybe love turned you to the Dark Side?" she cocked her head to one side, twisting the knife unknowingly.

"My unhealthy need to not lose it did," Vader ground his teeth in barely suppressed fury, straightening up at last and lowering his arms in surrender. Antagonizing this woman was useless. She would push relentlessly until she brought you to your knees. "The Emperor told me it was possible to cheat death... through the Dark Side."

"And you fell for it?!" Leia spluttered. If Vader's turn hadn't caused an Empire to rise and a genocide in the long run, the mere notion would be hilarious. "I considered you smarter than that."

"You'd be surprised at the things one would be willing to believe... if they're desperate enough," self-disgust filled his voice.

An immense melancholy overtook the Princess.

"Was she dying? Luke's mother?" she asked with a lump in her throat, getting a glimpse of the larger picture at last. Her understanding of Vader's situation and deep-seated pain was nothing short of... haunting.

Vader shook his head, unwilling to remember, fighting the images flashing before his eyes.

"I dreamed she would... in childbirth," he choked the words out and turned away from her. "And I ended up being the one who..." he squeezed his eyes shut with a strangled sound, "...who brought about her death. My hatred, my anger... _Me_."

Tears clouded Leia's eyes.

"And you're afraid you'll do the same to Luke."

Vader shook his head again, ferociously.

"I'll kill myself first. But _something_ will happen eventually if I stay. It always does." He looked away, lost in thought. "Happiness has always been an evanescent, gossamer dream that never stayed for long. I could barely brush it with my fingertips before it was taken away from me," a heavy, dark shadow descended on him. "I'm cursed," he stated in a distant voice, "I'm destined to lose the ones I love."

 _...At last!_

As if he'd read her thoughts, Vader turned to her, bitterness impregnating every small movement of the huge body.

"Yes, your highness. I love my son. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Leia smiled wistfully.

"Not for my sake, but _yours_. _And_ Luke's. He deserves to hear it, he deserves to have his father in his life, at his side. He deserves to know he'll always come first."

"He'll always come first!" Vader said passionately. "That's why I'm leaving. Is it so difficult for you to understand? Even after what I told you?"

"The only thing I understand, is that you're afraid," Leia spoke softly. "And until you can bring yourself to shake off your fear and believe that he's your greatest strength, your _salvation_ , talking to you will be like hitting a brick wall."

She took a bold step forward.

"You need to stop living in the past, clinging to all the horrifying moments in your life, and embrace the future and the lessons you've learned. Let Luke be your guide in your journey, and shelter him in your heart as he's sheltering you in his."

A profound shudder ran through Vader's frame at her fervent words. He turned his head to the stars.

"Can you guarantee that he will be safe?" he asked.

Leia raised her eyes skywards.

"There are no guarantees in life," she shrugged half-heartedly. "Only goodwill and best intentions. You said you'd rather die than cause him harm. If that's enough for me, why isn't it enough for you?"

"The answer to that is self-evident," Vader's voice sounded strained. "Best intentions led me to the Dark Side. At this point, it's not enough for me. Not anymore."

Leia risked another step closer.

"Because you turned to the wrong person for help. You took a gamble with your soul, and lost it. But look at me," she asked.

Gradually, Vader met the persuasive dark eyes.

"I also took a gamble when I sent that transmission," she reminded him as she looked at him knowingly. "The biggest gamble of my life." Fearlessly, she reached out and took hold of the gloved hand.

In utter shock, Vader stared down at the tiny hand holding on to his. Unthinkingly, his fingers closed around it as he experienced a sudden, strikingly powerful bond forming between them. He looked up at her open face just as it turned to his.

"And I don't regret it," she let out a bashful, heartfelt smile. "Not for a moment."

She squeezed his hand once and then released it.

Vader looked at his now empty hand in dismay, feeling as if a chasm opened before him.

"But I won't push you anymore," Leia's voice had an edge of finality. "Pushing you – pushing anyone – is a mistake. They must come to the truth by themselves, and no one and nothing can force them to see what they can't or won't allow themselves to see. I know you'll understand when the time is right," she sighed out loud. "I can only hope it'll happen before it's too late."

Just before she looked away, Vader saw the gleam of tears in her eyes. Tears of frustration and disenchantment.

Tears of resignation.

* * *

"He... He's not gone, is he, Han?" Luke asked his friend after noticing his thousandth surreptitious look at the door.

"Of course not!" the Corellian reassured the young Jedi a bit too vehemently. "Leia wouldn't let him anyway," he added as an afterthought.

The mental image Han's words conveyed, made everyone in the room smile to themselves.

But Luke's heartache soon wiped the little smile off his face. He looked down at his lap and started pulling at the sheet covering his legs in a nervous attempt to calm his misery.

"Maybe... Maybe it's better this way. Just the thought of saying goodbye..." he looked away, closing his eyes against the shattering pain.

"No, it's _not_ better this way!" Han exploded. "Blast it, this situation is ridiculous! He wants to stay, you want him to stay, we _all_ want him to stay; so what's the bloody problem?!" he stomped his foot on the floor.

Chewie growled his earnest reply that Han translated reluctantly after giving his Wookiee friend a chagrined look.

"He says that he won't allow himself to find peace. He just doesn't believe in his right to love and be happy."

Luke's eyes dropped closed on hearing that. If that was true, and he could feel in the deepest part of him that it was... Then there was no hope for either his father or himself.

A warm hand on his shoulder drove the chill from his bones. Shuddering, he looked up at his... brother. Yes. Han Solo _was_ the brother of his soul.

"Make no mistake about it, kid," the look in the Corellian's eyes was soft and steadfast, "he loves you. He loves you so much that he's absolutely terrified."

"Terrified of what?" Luke begged for an answer that made sense.

"He's terrified that you might love him back. He's terrified of hurting you again," his expression betrayed real and true compassion. "He's desperate to stay, but he won't consider himself worthy of getting what he wants," he sighed in regret. "When you've caused so much horror and destruction..." he looked up, totally at a loss for words, "...how to picture yourself living a plentiful, fulfilling life? How to _expect_ to be loved by anyone, or even deserve it?" he shrugged, hoping his clumsily put together words transmitted a fraction of what he wanted to say.

Luke's eyes began to glitter with tears.

"There's truly no hope," he uttered to himself in the weirdest tone of voice. Forcing himself to accept the inevitable, unchangeable fact.

"No, Luke," Lando's voice coming from the other side of the bed made the two friends' heads turn in his direction.

The dark-skinned man stood close, looking down at the young Jedi with disarming openness.

"Your father _knows_ that you love him, but admitting that truth would mean embracing the happiness that your love would bring to his life. And he's not ready for that." Something about his last words didn't sound right. "No, scratch that; he _thinks_ he's not ready for that."

Chewie stepped forward and messed Lando's hair proudly with a few growls of his own.

"He says that you must insist, you must keep trying to convince him," Han translated. "He doesn't need to risk his life trying to meet some impossible standards of self-sacrifice. It's a futile endeavour and if he ended up getting killed, his redemption would be useless."

"But how?" Luke asked in despair. "How can I convince him when he's made up his mind?"

The Corellian smiled softly as a powerful wave of affection swelled inside him at the young Jedi's innocence.

"You underestimate your influence on him, Luke. He would do _anything_ for you. _Even_ stay. All you have to do is ask."

Luke flinched as if he'd been struck.

"I can't do it! I can't do that to him when he... _begged_ me to let him go. He begged me to _not_ ask."

Han reached out and took hold of the young man's shoulders, shaking them once gently for emphasis.

"Luke, think! What purpose does it serve for your father to go? He won't find the peace he's looking for. His peace is right here, with you! Yes, you're gonna have to play dirty. So what? You might be actually saving his life."

Luke looked down with a self-depreciating smile and shook his head.

"It would be selfish of me."

"Since when saving a life is considered selfish?" Han stared at Luke as if he didn't recognize him anymore. "What is it with you Jedi? Do they kill all instinct for self-preservation when they train you? We're not talking about hurting someone to save another, we're talking about doing what's best for _everyone_. Think about all the good things your father could do. As a born leader, as an advisor; hell, even as a pilot; saving lives _right here_!" he threw his hands up in sheer exasperation. "You are really two of a kind. A royal pain in the butt!"

He rose to his feet with a snarl and met his friends' eyes. Lando tilted his head to one side a little, indicating he thought he'd gone a bit too far in his recriminations, but Han just gazed at him with his patented lopsided grin and a wink.

Lando covered his mouth with his hand discreetly to hide his incipient smile. Han's 'tough-love' tactics seemed to have worked because Luke's faraway look showed he was giving the matter some serious thought.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	17. Chapter 17

When Dr. Vilk entered his patient's room two hours later, he was pleasantly surprised to find him walking around the room aided by Han Solo and Lando Calrissian, and under the watchful scrutiny of Darth Vader and Princess Leia.

"Now that's the sight that makes a doctor happy!" he exclaimed with a big grin. "How're you doing, young man?"

"Just fine, doctor," Luke replied, giving him a fast look and continuing his walk uninterrupted. "I feel somewhat stronger."

"You should've waited to have something in your stomach first," Vilk said, "but it's all right. You'll be walking around on your own tomorrow."

"You think so?" Luke's head turned again and he stared at his physician with the most hopeful look.

"I _know_ so," Vilk nodded emphatically. "Now, when you feel you've walked enough go back to bed. It's dinner time."

Luke nodded to his friends and they all headed back to bed.

"Bring it on, please. I'm hungry," he requested.

"No wonder," Vilk muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. "I heard that this afternoon's puree was... let's say insipid."

"It's a way to put it," Luke pulled a funny face.

Vilk let out a short laugh.

"Sorry about that. I'll see what I can do about your dinner," and with that, he turned and left.

Luke covered his legs with the sheet and the coverlet, and laid his palm flat on the bed.

"What kind of puree will he bring me this time? Come on, don't be shy. Make your bets," he asked impishly.

"Vegetables," Han said.

"A pulse puree," Leia ventured.

"Wrong answers, both of you!" Vilk announced, walking in with a bed tray and placing it over Luke's legs.

Luke stared down at it.

"White potato?" he blinked up at his doctor. _"WHITE POTATO?!"_

"Bear with me," Vilk requested with a conciliatory look. "I had a couple extra ingredients added, which should make it tastier. And you've got carrot juice instead of water," he looked pointedly at the glass.

Relenting, Luke smiled at Vilk's sincere attempts to make things look better.

"It's all right, doctor. I understand," he simply said, picking up the spoon without another word.

Touched by the young man's compliance, Vilk squeezed his shoulder.

"You already proved that your stomach can take this. I'll compensate you tomorrow," he promised.

Luke moved the puree around in his mouth and swallowed it. He nodded with a genuinely suprised look.

"It _is_ tasty!" he confirmed. "I don't know what else you put in here, but it does taste good. Thank you for the effort," he grinned at the man who'd worked so hard to save his life.

Vilk smiled back.

"It was my pleasure. You deserved a reward for being such a good sport," he patted the young man's back warmly. "Enjoy your dinner and the company," he swept his eyes around the room complimentarily. "See you tomorrow at breakfast. Sleep well."

"Thanks, doctor. You too," Luke replied.

After bidding everyone goodbye, the white-haired man left. Luke finished his puree, delighting in every spoonful, washing it down occasionally with the juice.

"It was really good," he said when he was finished.

As if she had heard him say the words, the door slid open and a nurse rolled in to take the tray. When she left, everybody looked at each other in wonder.

"Best room service than any hotel in the galaxy," Han voiced their thoughts.

"Any hotel where good guests know when it's time to say goodnight," Leia gave them all the cue, droids included, with a smiling nod in the door's direction.

Nodding/beeping their comformity, Han, Lando, Chewie, Artoo and Threepio followed her out. They all acknowledged that the next few hours belonged to Luke and his father. They could only leave them alone and hope for the best.

When the door closed after them, Vader walked up to his child's bedside. Luke gazed up at the approaching colossus with a look full of trust and adoration. The Sith Lord smiled beneath his mask and put his hand on the pink cheek, revelling in all the small but noticeable changes in his boy since he'd first arrived.

' _My little miracle,'_ he sighed inside. _'My pride and joy... My heart. My soul.'_

Luke pressed the leathered palm to his face needfully. If only he could find the courage to...

"Father..." the breathy word left his lips like a caress, making Vader shudder.

"You need to sleep," Vader persuaded, as if he knew the thoughts that were crossing his offspring's mind. "The more rest you get the stronger your body will become."

Eyes riveted on the beloved form, Luke bit his lower lip.

"I would..." he began clumsily. "I- I'd like... I..."

Vader sat down on his son's bed without freeing his hand. His thumb escaped the child's grasp and caressed the thin skin of his cheekbone.

"Yes?"

"F-Father, I-I... I'd..." the young man bit his lower lip harder, revealing such bottomless pit of despair that it was more than Vader could bear.

"Tell me, Son," he asked, feeling all resistance crumble. "What is it?!"

Vader's vehemence felt almost aggressive and Luke recoiled, thinking he was trying his father's patience.

"I... I'd..." he shook his head and released the big hand, looking down at his lap. "W-would you raise the head of the bed a bit, please? I'd like to sleep sitting up a little."

Something died in Vader on hearing those words.

"Of... course," he nodded after a brief pause. He rose and searched the panel at the foot of the bed. He pressed a small button for a few seconds.

"That's enough, thank you," Luke said when the head had been raised to his satisfaction. He lay down. "It's more comfortable now," he gave his father a shaky smile.

Vader nodded assent, sitting on the chair next to his child's bed.

The two men stared at each other for the shortest eternity, gauging one another. Hesitant, desperate, until...

"Good night, Father," Luke whispered almost inaudibly.

They reached out, squeezing each other's hands for dear life.

"Good night, my son," Vader stroked the backs of the pale fingers with his thumb. "Rest well."

"You too," Luke gave him the ghost of a smile.

They closed their eyes, one single word echoing ruthlessly in their minds.

 _'COWARD!'_

* * *

Blue eyes blinked open sleepily and looked around, foggy brain wondering where he was. The hand he was holding and the body it belonged to were the first things in his line of vision. Recognizing them instantly he clung to them, literally _and_ metaphorically.

He fixed his gaze on their intertwined fingers and frowned. Something was wrong there. He was staring at flesh and black leather and yet, he couldn't tell what fingers were his and what were…

Suddenly, the room began to spin.

 _'What... What is this? Force, what...?'_

* * *

A barren desert. Twin suns in the sky. Scorching heat. And a white-clad little boy standing on a dune, looking up at the heavens, tears running down his cheeks. Quiet, resigned tears. His calm appearance couldn't disguise the fact that his heart was torn in two. A wild gust of wind disheveled his hair and he raised his small hand, waving longingly at an ascending ship.

 _'Goodbye, Daddy.'_

* * *

"Father."

The world righted itself in a split second - the time it took him to snap out of his impromptu vision and focus on the smiling creature lying in the bed before him.

The purest soul that had ever existed, encased in a frail body struggling to recover from a deadly illness _he_ had instilled.

Big, gentle eyes stared up at him as if the sun rose and set on his repulsive form.

 _'This is how I want to die. Looking into your sweet, loving eyes. Cradled in your warm embrace. My saviour, my redeemer, my master.'_

"Good day, my... My Son," Vader took a deep breath and pulled himself together with a wince. Holding back the automatic endearment felt like a betrayal to everything his child had gone through. If nothing else, Luke deserved his father's emotional honesty.

 _'Not even if I lived a billion years I would ever compensate for all my crimes and wrongdoings, so what's the point...? Force, it all seems so pointless... Why can't I tell you what's in my heart? What could I possibly...?'_

The soft squeeze on his fingers brought Vader out of his morbid, defeatist introspection.

"In case I never have the chance to tell you..." Luke's eyes softened, staring at him with an openness that left Vader speechless, "...thank you for coming to me. Thank you for everything you've done. For me, for my friends and for the Alliance," he made a short pause. "Thank you for being my father."

Vader smiled sarcastically.

"Unfortunately for you, you never had a choice in the matter."

Luke sat up and stared at the Sith Lord with a forthright look that made his heart skip a beat.

"Don't you know by now?" he released Vader's fingers and grabbed his wrist in a hard grip.

"Know?"

Luke's grip tightened even harder and his eyes burned with fervour.

"You're the only father I want. The only one I would ever accept."

Vader jerked back and gazed at his child in disbelief.

"You don't know what you're saying," he said almost disdainfully.

Luke smiled sadly.

"And one day..." he chose to ignore his father's last words as he went on, "...you'll understand why. And that day nothing will stand in your way... And between us. That day you will be truly free, from yourself and the hopelessness that's robbing you of what's yours and yours only. What no one will ever take away from you, not even yourself." He looked down dejectedly. "As much as you try."

For the first time, Vader saw Yoda's teachings in his son's words, and in the deepest part of him he knew that his son would be a Master one day. A Master the likes of which the extinct Order had never seen in all the millenia it had existed.

"All I understand, is that one day you will be the greatest Jedi ever," he stated with no trace of bitterness in his voice. "You'll become everything I never was, everything I failed to be. And the galaxy will flourish into a new era of prosperity that will last for a thousand generations."

Luke blushed at his father's words and looked down self-consciously.

"The only way I could ever hope to become even a tenth of the Jedi you're describing... is having you by my side," he braved the black mask entreatingly.

A sad smile crossed the scarred features and a big hand framed the rosy cheek.

"Only the Force knows." Vader shrugged self-dismissively. "And anyway, you don't need me to be what you already are, what you're well on your way to becoming."

Luke pressed the prosthetic hand against his face.

"You've been as much a mentor to me as Ben and Yoda," his eyes glistened with sincerity. "You've taught me so much without even knowing... Without even trying..."

"I'm sure I have," Vader nodded ironically. "About the decisions you must never make. About the paths you must never take."

Luke shook his head patiently.

"You've taught me about possibilities, about never giving up, about clinging to your convictions regardless of what others think," he smiled lovingly and his voice softened. "You've taught me about keeping an open heart to all the marvels out there..." he reached out and cupped the side of the durasteel mask in his palm, "...with you being the most wondrous one of all."

Vader let out a smile of exasperated defeat.

"It seems to me I didn't teach you anything you didn't already know at some level. Just never lose that endearing naiveté of yours, my child. You don't know the miracles it's capable of bringing about."

"Are you talking from personal experience?" Luke teased tenderly.

"You tell me, my recalcitrant one," the Dark Lord teased back just as fondly, taking the smaller hand in his own.

Luke chuckled bashfully. With his eyes fixed on their clasped hands, he spoke his heart out.

"Make no mistake, Father," he met the black sockets that were riveted on him. "I will need you always. For the rest of my life."

Humbled by the outpouring of naked emotion, Vader also studied their linked hands as if they contained the secrets of the universe... or the answer to the questions that had been plaguing him since he'd come aboard.

Maybe... Maybe there were no answers to his questions. Maybe their joined hands _were_ the answer.

Before he could go further with his musings, the door slid open and a robot nurse rolled in carrying a tray.

Their hands unlinked and Vader shuddered, experiencing a chilling feeling of bereavement.

The nurse placed the bed tray over Luke's legs.

"Enjoy your breakfast," she said before rolling away.

"T-Thanks," Luke replied distractedly, looking down at the plate.

Two Corellian apples and a hindian pear, plus a glass full of a yellowish liquid which he reckoned had to be a juice of some kind. He took a small sip.

"Banana!" he licked his lips unconsciously, but the smile froze on his face when he saw the fork and the knife next to the plate. He swallowed hard, not daring to look up.

Ignoring the searing stab of pain and guilt, Vader straightened up in his seat.

"Please, allow me the honour," he rasped out.

The Dark Lord took hold of the knife and the pear and began to peel it under Luke's timid gaze. When he was finished, he put it back on the plate.

"Wait," he asked softly when he saw his son reaching for it.

Luke looked at him interrogatively.

Holding the fork now, Vader cut the pear into several pieces. Then, he raised his right hand and with a delicate flourish, levitated one piece up to Luke's lips.

Grinning in amused, childlike joy, Luke allowed himself to be fed, knowing all too well what it was costing his father to keep a lighthearted mood about the situation. But he was determined to not let Vader's feelings of guilt devour him. The past was in the past. He had forgiven his father wholeheartedly and he wouldn't allow any negative feelings to sully the bond they were building, together.

He ate the pear and both apples with gusto, and he was actually sorry when he took the final sip of his banana juice.

"Still hungry?" Vader asked after his son wiped his mouth with the napkin.

"No," Luke put the napkin by the plate, "but I don't feel stuffed either. It was the right amount of food."

Vader nodded, satisfied.

"I must say I've never been fed so originally," Luke smiled impishly, bent on keeping his father's mind away from any gloomy thoughts. "You're very imaginative; thank you."

"It wasn't the first time," Vader admitted, swept away by an ocean of poignant memories.

"Mother?" Luke's voice was a reverent whisper following a brief silence full of meaning.

The Dark Lord nodded assent.

"I bet there's a lovely story behind," the young man prompted gently.

A scornful smile crossed the dry lips.

"Just a juvenile attempt at courtship from an inexperienced, totally smitten kid."

"If you don't mind, I'll see it as an incredibly considerate act of kindness... with maybe an aim to impress," there was a definite twinkle in the crystal blue eyes.

"Absolutely. Both times," Vader stated arrogantly.

Luke burst out laughing happily, soaking up these moments of relaxed banter between them. It meant so much... It meant _everything_.

The Sith Lord smiled at the sound of his son's hearty laughter. It warmed his heart like nothing ever had. Reaching out, he tousled the blond hair.

 _'To hold, to caress... I had forgotten what it was like. You brought it all back to me, sweet angel. Thank you. Thank you for giving me back my humanity.'_

The door slid open and Han and Leia walked in. Upon seeing the pair's antics they faltered, not wanting to intrude on the private moment.

Luke and Vader's heads turned to them simultaneously and Luke's face lit up.

"Hey, good morning!" he greeted happily.

Shaking off her indecision, Leia approached the bed with a smile.

"Good morning," she greeted back, kissing him on the cheek. "I see you had breakfast already."

"Yes," Luke nodded. "Two apples, one pear and a banana juice. A normal breakfast at last!"

"That's great, kid," Han walked closer. "You're looking much better."

"It's wonderful to see you improving day by day," Leia combed through the blond hair maternally.

"It's wonderful to be surrounded by people who care about me so much," the gratitude in Luke's words was so disarming that everyone felt a lump form in their throats.

Leia's eyes sought Vader's and they nodded to each other in wordless acknowledgment.

"Had a good night?" she asked after taking a deep breath.

"Yes, we did," Vader answered for the two of them.

"Where are Chewie and Lando?" Luke inquired curiously, meeting her gaze.

"They slept in and we left them finishing their breakfast in the mess. They'll be here any minute," Leia explained.

Luke nodded.

"Anything new from Headquarters?"

The unexpected question startled everybody. Not only because of the question itself, but because it showed that despite having suffered a mortal illness that had ravaged his body, the young Jedi's brain remained as sharp as ever. More than that, there was an authority in his voice and stance that hadn't been present until now. Luke's dramatic growth and maturity exemplified everything that had changed in the past few weeks. Around them _and_ inside them all.

"Nothing," Leia replied, honouring the change in the young man she so adored. "The High Command's verdict stands. Your father's been unanimously pardoned and offered political asylum as an Imperial defector. Whatever he decides to do from this moment on, is strictly his own personal choice."

Leia wasn't one of the top leaders of the Alliance for nothing. After a career as a politician and several years in the Senate, she knew how to turn practically any situation around and redirect it where it suited her best.

The ball was now back in Vader's court. Where it had been all along.

Her words sobered Luke almost like a reprimand, effectively taking the wind out of his sails. He nodded again sharply, withdrawing into himself.

Vader cast the Princess a reproachful look, knowing she wouldn't see it. His assumption was proved wrong when she threw him the fakest smile.

The door opened and the robot nurse rolled in. She took the tray over Luke's legs and rolled away. The door hadn't begun to close behind her when Lando, Chewie, the droids and Dr. Vilk walked in.

"Good morning, young man!" Vilk greeted him cheerfully. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

"Very much," Luke's voice sounded somewhat subdued. "It felt good to eat solid food at last."

"I bet it did," Vilk nodded his understanding. "But now you know what's coming next, don't you?"

"I think I do," Luke said, moving the bedcovers aside and sliding over to the edge of the bed.

Immediately, Han and Lando placed themselves beside him, and after Luke put on his slippers and wrapped his arms around their shoulders, they helped him up.

"Slow and easy," Vilk instructed. "Find your balance and make sure that you can stand first."

"All right," Luke nodded, testing the strength in his legs.

Securing his hold on his friends' shoulders, Luke took his first tentative steps of the day. He gained confidence as he progressed, and after a couple minutes he looked up at his doctor.

"You want to try walking on your own," Vilk read the silent request in the expressive eyes. "Go ahead," he nodded gently. "But you two stay close, just in case," he told Han and Lando.

Carefully, the two friends released Luke's arms and moved their hands away from his waist. They hovered close as the young man took his first steps unaided. His legs shook under the effort but he stood firm. Slowly, the young Jedi persevered and walked on his own for an entire minute. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and he bit his lower lip, refusing to stop, but in the end he returned to his bed and leaned on it. He bowed his head and blew out all the air in his lungs.

"Well done," Han whispered to him, putting one hand on his back and moving it in circles proudly.

"Indeed," Vilk praised effusively. "How're you feeling?"

"The muscles in my legs burn. I need to practise some more," Luke replied, wiping the sweat off his upper lip.

"And you will," Vilk assured him. "After lunch and after dinner. It'll get easier the more you try."

Lando squeezed Luke's shoulder wordlessly. Luke smiled at him in acknowledgment and then looked up at Chewie, who growled with an emphatic nod. Leia's big grin warmed his heart and he returned it happily. Finally, his eyes turned to his father.

"Impressive," was Vader's word of approval.

Luke smiled at him tiredly and climbed into bed, sitting back against his pillows. The muscles in his thighs and calves twitched, and he bent forward to rub them briskly.

Artoo rolled up to his master's bedside and beeped an enthusiastic sound to him.

Grinning, Luke reached out and patted the blue dome softly.

"Thanks, Artoo."

"Master," Threepio joined in. "It is so good to see you getting better. You will be fully functional in no time."

"Thank you, Threepio," Luke chuckled. "I hope to stay that way for many, many years."

"And I join in the sentiment," Vilk stressed his words with an energetic nod. "You broke all known records in bad luck, young man. The fact that you survived, makes you indestructible in my book."

Luke threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"Why thank you, doctor!" he looked back down and his eyes sought the man in black leather standing at the foot of his bed. He gazed at him adoringly. "But having something to live for made it easier. Being challenged to survive for the chance to witness a miracle was an opportunity I couldn't let pass."

Vader gave a soft start and returned his son's gaze with a gentle tilt of his helmeted head.

 _'Come back and let me prove you wrong!'_

Luke nodded at him and his eyes misted with tears. Vader took a deep, painful breath and nodded back. Even half-conscious and in the middle of a seizure, his child had somehow listened to him and given him a chance. To his monster of a father who'd done nothing at that point but terrorize and brutalize him. And still...

 _'I don't remember much,'_ Luke's shy voice entered his thoughts. _'I just remember floating away... and a booming voice commanding me to return and stay. And I just couldn't refuse. Suddenly... I **wanted** to stay.'_

 _'Thank the Force that you did, my boy. If you hadn't...'_ Vader couldn't bring himself to even contemplate the possibility. His son, dying in his arms. Losing him forever, like his mother, like his wife, like so many others he'd cared about...

In three strides, he was at his child's bedside, holding his outstretched hand in his own. He squeezed it until the boy winced.

"Easy, easy," Luke told his father in a light tone. "Let the blood flow... That's it. Much better," he smiled up at him with a wink.

Vilk watched them unblinkingly, his jaw almost hitting the floor. After a few seconds of paralysed astonishment, he pulled himself together with a shake of his head.

"As I was saying, you've earned decades of iron health if everyone's protectiveness is anything to go by. Especially his," he raised his eyebrows at Vader. "I can't imagine what you are to him, but..."

"Everything, doctor," Vader's lack of qualms stating his son's importance to him shook everybody to the core. "He is everything that matters."

"Good," Vilk's aplomb wasn't any less impressive. "As obvious as it was right from the start, it's important to hear you say it out loud," he reached out his hand.

The Dark Lord looked down at the proffered hand and shook it with a hard squeeze.

"You have my eternal gratitude for saving my... _his_ life," he quickly amended.

"Never been one to _not_ take the credit for a job well done," Vilk shrugged off the sting of his half-serious words, "but I'm no fool. It was your doing as much as mine that healed him, if not more," his half-smile never belied the fact that he knew who was mostly responsible for young Skywalker's continued existence.

Vader released the doctor's hand, feeling inexplicably self-conscious. It still felt hard to believe that anything good could come from him. From his actions or emotions.

"Now," Vilk addressed everyone in the room with a sweeping glance, "I must ask you to please leave for a while. We're going to clean the room and take care of this young man's necessities."

"Does it mean I'll be allowed to finally have a shower, doctor?" Luke's anticipation was contagious.

"A _supervised_ bath more like," Vilk gave him a long nod.

The young Jedi raised his eyes to the ceiling, but acquiesced without further protest. Any advancement was something to rejoice in, as small as it was.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	18. Chapter 18

"More and more, I realize how alike you two actually are," Leia's words brought everyone's minds back to the present.

"How so?" Vader asked without taking his eyes away from the stars outside.

"What you're doing right now. Looking out at the stars," the Princess walked up to him. "Luke's being doing that for as long as I've known him." She paused briefly and ended up smiling. "The same bearing... It's uncanny."

Vader remained silent, pondering.

"What do they do for you? The stars?" the young woman's curiosity was unfeigned.

There was a loud, long intake of breath.

"I couldn't say," Vader said at last. "I always looked to the stars when I needed... Answers. They calmed me. They always provided something I couldn't find by myself."

"Peace of mind?" Han joined in from a couple steps behind them.

"Perhaps," was the thoughtful reply. "They are... permanent. Unchanged. Eternal. They have been there for billions of years, and they will still be there billions of years after we're not even a memory."

"Those are some deep thoughts," there was no mockery in the Corellian's words. Quite the contrary, his voice conveyed a quiet admiration for the older man.

"Looking for the permanency you couldn't find anywhere else?" Leia didn't beat about the bush.

Vader's lips quirked in a sardonic grimace.

"Careful," he warned, "you're too good at getting inside people's heads."

Leia smiled, knowing the Dark Lord's words were anything but a warning.

"What are you thinking right now?" she asked out of the blue.

The sudden heaviness in the room was almost palpable.

"Are you thinking that the permanency you crave for is going to be denied once more?" she asked with merciless accuracy. "Are you looking for a reason to stay but can't bring yourself to believe that you _deserve_ to stay? Are you afraid of finding happiness again? Of what it will do to you? To _him_?"

The tension grew to an even higher level. _And_ the silence.

Leia sighed out loud.

"I wish I could see the future. I wish I could tell you this time won't be like the others. I wish I could give you the courage to take hold of that happiness and never let go."

The silence stretched on for what felt like forever.

"I can't even begin to imagine how damaged inside you are after..." Leia bit her lower lip, overcome by emotion. "But then again, _life_ is a risk. It took great courage to leave the Empire behind, and you did it. It was a huge personal risk to switch sides, and you took it without second thoughts. You're ready now to face the Emperor to protect Luke. Why is the prospect of staying scarier than that?"

"Please," the almost begging tone of voice shocked everyone. "I appreciate your efforts, but you must cease your attempts to convince me. You know I'm a-"

"You're _not_ a threat to Luke or any of us," Lando stated earnestly, stepping forward. "We all accept what you were, what you did, and what and who you are now. Such thinking is unhealthy and spiritually crippling. Your journey back to the good side has been nothing short of miraculous. No one in their sane mind in this Universe would have ever believed it possible. And yet, it happened. Don't ruin it now; don't deny yourself this final step. It's the easiest one of all, but you must _want_ to take it."

Chewie put his hand on Lando's shoulder, deeply moved by the dark-skinned man's speech. It showed just how much the old gambler had changed in the last few months. He was in awe of how much growth had occurred in the souls of ALL those present in that room. It was mind-boggling, inspiring and wonderful. But he felt that the ultimate eye-opening words, the harshest of all, had to come from him. And he wouldn't shirk the responsibility, because he was the only one who could overpower the cyborg should he snap after he had his say.

He walked up to Vader and stopped right behind him, giving the black form a few seconds to feel the heat of his body at his back. Then, he bent down and whispered determinedly to him.

Vader spun around violently as if he'd been challenged beyond all limits. For a second, it felt as though he was going to charge at the Wookiee, but at the last moment he walked past him and stormed out of the room, leaving a blast of cold air behind him.

Petrified, the three friends looked at each other, not daring to move, almost not daring to breathe; all of them feeling they'd barely escaped with their lives.

Leia swallowed hard, trying to calm her wildly beating heart. Pale as a ghost, she met Lando's eyes, that stared back at her with the same look of consternation. Turning to her beloved next, she saw him walk up to his hairy friend and put one trembling hand on his shoulder.

"It was one hell of a chance you took there, pal. I can't believe you said that to him."

Chewie looked down at him and shrugged, growling that someone had to do it. Han sighed aloud and nodded regretfully.

"What did he say?" Leia approached them, followed by a wobbly-legged Calrissian.

The Corellian turned his head to look at her and translated from memory.

"'You want to leave before he asks you to stay, don't you? Before his love for you forces you to give yourself to your love for him. And if that happens your life will matter again, if only because losing you would kill him. I can't believe you're such a coward, running away from the love that would release you from the chains that have imprisoned you for so long. You're afraid of freedom because deep down you've always been a slave.'"

"Oh, my..." Leia covered her mouth with her hand, aghast. No wonder...

"What's even sadder," Lando muttered more to himself than to the others, "is that he still won't change his mind."

Everyone closed their eyes at that, privately acknowledging the truth in those words.

* * *

When the gang returned to Luke's room, they found him sitting up in bed with the two droids herded around it. He looked very refreshed and relaxed. His clean hair looked blonder than ever before, all soft and silky. It actually shone under the lights in the ceiling. His skin tone was healthier and almost seemed to glow. He wore a different round necked gown, cream-coloured and long-sleeved.

"Hi!" he greeted them.

"Hi," Leia greeted him back, looking around. "Where's your father?"

"In the bathroom," Luke pointed at it with his head. "He barged in and didn't even look at me," he met Leia's eyes, disconcerted. "What happened?"

His friends looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

"Ahhh, we had a small disagreement," Han explained vaguely.

Luke half-closed his eyes, trying to guess what he meant by that.

"Right," he quickly realized what it was and looked down dejectedly. "I... I thank you for trying... but I can't... I'm not..."

"You're the only one who can change his mind, Luke," Leia went to his side and took his hand between her own. "He'll listen to you and only to you. It's your call if you truly care about him."

The restroom door slid open and the Dark Lord emerged like a haunted spirit. He seemed to have regained his composure... mostly. He walked up to his son's bed and met the big blue eyes fixed on him.

"I... I apologize for my loss of control."

It was almost funny to see Darth Vader apologizing to his son instead of those who had witnessed his emotional meltdown. But his contrite demeanour was sincere. He looked as though he thought he'd lost all the credit he'd earned in the others' eyes, and didn't know where he stood anymore.

"Hey," Han gave voice to everyone's thoughts, "we're all entitled to lose our temper if we feel we've been pushed past our breaking point. No one's gonna stop speaking to you for that."

Vader's eyes searched the younger man's face. Han just shrugged off the issue. The Princess, the Wookiee and Calrissian all responded with shrugs and dismissive shakes of their heads. The Sith Lord looked down again, vastly grateful.

"Thank you," he simply said. "Thank you for your understanding."

"Erm, you're getting it backwards here," Leia swiftly clarified the matter. "We _don't_ understand," her eyes flashed intensely. "But we're through with this matter. It's not our place to question the wisdom of your decisions anyway," she squeezed Luke's hand pointedly and then released it.

A long silence followed, not uncomfortable but not one hundred percent easy either. People scattered around the room - sitting down, leaning back against the wall, pacing... All but Vader, whose presence by Luke's bed was accepted by all as his natural place.

Some time later, someone tried to strike up an idle conversation that was met with half-hearted contributions at first. Gradually, as they warmed to it, the awkwardness and misery melted away.

* * *

"You landed with only _half_ a ship?!" Luke exclaimed, blown away by his father's tale. Such a feat was beyond all his imaginings. His mind tried to conjure up images of the event and to his dismay, he realized that none of them would ever come close to the real thing.

"Kid, your father wasn't known as the best star pilot in the galaxy for nothing," Han reminded them all. Clearly, he was also taken by Vader's story.

His friend's words brought back the memory of Ben's description of Anakin Skywalker all those years ago. So, not everything had been lies and half-truths.

"Yes, well," Vader's baritone jolted Luke back to the present, "you wouldn't say that if you had seen the state of the landing strip afterwards. _And_ the control tower."

"Oh?" Luke stared up at his father.

"A total wreck," Vader summed it up. "It took weeks to build another."

Luke blinked repeatedly, both amused and stunned.

"And what did Obi-Wan say?" he finally asked.

The Dark Lord tilted his head to one side, pretending to think hard.

"I seem to remember that his exact words were: 'Another happy landing.'"

Roaring laughter exploded from everyone in the room. That last sentence was the icing on the cake. Vader not only turned out to be an excellent story teller, he certainly knew how to crown them.

Just then, the door slid open and Dr. Vilk walked in, followed by a couple bricklayer droids carrying heavy cases.

"Sorry to interrupt your fun, but there are some repairs to be done in the bathroom. It shouldn't take long," he announced, turning to Luke. "Ready for lunch, young man?"

"Yeah," Luke replied, looking somewhat embarrassed. He could guess what the droids had come for.

"Repairs?! In the bathroom?!" Han arched his eyebrows in bafflement. "What's the matter, kid?" he turned instinctively to Luke. "Did you take a Force-leak or somethin'?"

Luke rolled his eyes and made an exaggerated facepalm, shaking his head at the same time in a show of infinite patience.

When the sputtering chuckles died down, Vilk answered the Corellian's question.

"Gotta repair the fist marks on the wall. Apparently, someone decided to vent their frustrations on the tiles," he cast a pointed look at Vader.

Everybody turned wide-open eyes to the Sith Lord who just sat there, dead still.

Smiling compassionately, Luke reached out and squeezed the gloved hand, interlacing his fingers with Vader's in a statement that spoke volumes.

The bathroom door closed after the droids and a few moments later, muffled pounding sounds began.

"But I can let such behaviour slide, considering the nerve-wracking days we had when it was touch-and-go with you," Vilk's eyes softened as he gazed at his patient. "A couple holes on the wall are nothing."

"Yes," Luke nodded, feeling his father squeeze back warily. Grinning up at him, he nudged the big body with his shoulder.

Wondering once more at the unfathomable relationship between those two men that went completely over his head, Vilk nodded back.

The door opened again and this time a robot nurse rolled in, carrying a tray with Luke's lunch. After placing it over his legs carefully, she left.

Everyone studied the content on the plate with keen curiosity.

"Looks like Antar turkey," Luke made an educated guess.

"Exactly," Vilk nodded, pleased. "I hope you like it."

Luke gave him a big smile.

"You can bet I will, doctor," he took the fork and picked up a generous amount of the accompanying rice. His eyes widened in surprise after tasting it. "Delicious!" he declared, diving in for a second taste.

"All right, you don't need me around for now," Vilk said, delighted with the young Jedi's enthusiasm, "but I'll return in a while for your second walk of the day. Enjoy your meal."

"I _am_ ," Luke mumbled between mouthfuls. "See ya!"

With a stifled snicker, Vilk turned around and left.

Luke devoured half the rice before turning his breathtakingly expressive eyes to his father with a shy request. Vader's heart skipped a beat and with a curt nod, he took the knife and the fork the boy handed him and cut the turkey fillet into several pieces.

Taking the fork from his father's hand with a loving smile, Luke attacked the turkey with relish, washing it down with a glass of carrot juice.

The Dark Lord stared at his child totally enraptured; imprinting the mundane moment into his memory – the sparkling eyes, the cute upturned nose, the moving mouth as it chewed, the puffy cheek...

Of its own volition, his hand reached out and caressed the rosy cheek with such reverent tenderness that the blond head immediately turned to him. Their eyes met and everything else in the universe just disappeared.

 _Forever, my precious little life._

 _Forever._

The soulful blue eyes enveloped him in a fragrant cocoon of love and Vader trembled with the raw intensity of it.

Unworthy.

 _'Father, I... I...'_

Unworthy!

His hand dropped and the Sith Lord looked down at it, bewildered. It felt almost as if it tingled. He knew it was impossible, that it was a phantom sensation, but that didn't make it any less _real_.

 _You own my heart, my soul and my life, my son. They belong to you. They always did, even before I knew you existed, even before I made you. You are my saviour, my hope, my eternity. Don't fear for me, angel, for nothing can touch me now. You marked me with your Goodness and I will not fail again. How could I, after knowing such purity? You showed me the way and there's no turning back. Always with you, always a part of you, my Light. Forever yours._

Leia bit her lips and wiped away a stray tear from her cheek surreptitiously. Such waste. Such waste...!

Luke resumed his eating in self-conscious silence. When he was done with the turkey and the rice, he moved the plate back and brought the smaller one with his dessert closer – eight boneless cherries that promptly disappeared. He took the final sip of his juice and wiped his mouth with the napkin. Then, he leaned back against his pillows with a low sigh.

"I feel full," he commented, clearing his throat.

"That's to be expected," Leia said. "Your meal was more..."

"Substantial," Vader provided the precise word.

"Just so," she nodded. "But don't relax too much now 'cause you'll be out of bed in a few minutes," she winked at her best friend.

"True," Luke quickly sat up.

As if on cue, the door opened and the robot nurse entered, heading straight for the young man's bed. She took the tray and rolled away.

Luke threw the bedclothes aside and moved his legs to the edge of the bed. Sliding his feet into his slippers, he waited for Vilk to arrive. The wait was short.

"Wow!" Vilk exclaimed upon entering, "you really are in a hurry to start."

"I want to see how long I can last," Luke's determination was apparent.

"It's good to test one's strength," Vilk agreed, "but don't push it."

Luke nodded vigorously and rose to his feet as Han and Lando moved close. Slowly, putting one foot in front of the other and making sure that his legs would hold him up, the young man took his first steps.

Everyone watched with lumps in their throats, silently encouraging the young Jedi's resilience. The minutes ticked by; one turned to two and then to three. A thin sheen of sweat appeared on Luke's forehead and upper lip, but he wiped it away resolutely. His legs began to shake, subtly at first and then noticeably. And he still didn't stop.

"I think you should take a break," Leia raised her eyes to Vader. "You've made enormous progress, but if you try too hard your legs might not hold you up in the evening."

"I agree," Vader said. "Save some of your strength."

The softness in the mechanical voice was something Vilk wasn't prepared for, and he shook his head once again in disbelief. Never in his whole life he had encountered such a bond. He would give anything to understand where it came from.

Luke met Vader's eyes and something clicked _physically_ between them. Vader reached out and, as if pulled by an invisible force, Luke walked up to him, not looking down for the first time. He'd put all his trust, all his _faith_ , in the dark form beckoning him. His legs seemed about to give out, but he didn't waver. He covered the three metres separating them and the moment their fingers touched, he collapsed into Vader's arms.

The Sith Lord cradled him against his body, lowering his masked face until it touched the blond hair.

Leia's heart ached at Vader's gesture, its meaning painfully obvious for all those who cared to see.

Wrapping one arm around his son's waist, Vader guided him to the bed and helped him sit. The muscles in the thin legs twitched uncontrollably and Vader sat down before him, placing his hands on them until the spasms stopped.

"A laudable effort, but impractical," Vilk put it in a nutshell. "You need _time_ to recover the muscle mass you lost, and pushing yourself like this now won't make the process any faster."

Luke made a grimace.

"It's frustrating to be bedridden. My life consists of either lying down or sitting."

"I know," Vilk smiled sympathetically. "But in a couple days you'll be walking around the medical ward without any difficulty; and remember that you're free to return to your quarters. Surely, you'll find more ways to occupy your time there."

Luke flinched at that and looked down, withdrawing visibly into himself.

Puzzled by the young man's suddenly despondent behaviour, Vilk opened his mouth to ask, but the bathroom door slid open at that very moment and the two bricklayer droids came out.

"The repairs are completed," one of them announced in a lifeless monotone. "You may enter whenever you wish."

"Ahh, thank you," Vilk replied distractedly, moving aside for the droids to leave. When they did he looked around, seeing how the mood in the room had plummeted inexplicably. Knowing he wouldn't get an explanation, he chose to overlook it. "You can always have some of your stuff brought here to help time pass faster," he offered instead.

"That's a good idea," Han commended the doctor's suggestion, sounding a bit subdued.

"Anyway," Vilk straightened up, shaking off the gloomy shadow that seemed to have descended on them all, "I'll be back in the evening. Try to cheer up. The worst is long over; you'll get back your independence very soon."

Luke forced a smile and nodded at him.

"I'm looking forward to it," he said sincerely.

Nodding back and casting the group a final nonplussed look, Vilk left.

Plainly uncomfortable with the situation he was mostly responsible for, Vader raised his eyes from the skinny legs.

"Have the spasms ceased altogether?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Luke breathed deeply and leaned back on his pillows. "Thank you, Father. That was very kind of you."

The exaggerated formality didn't conceal the heartbreak beneath.

Vader rose and took hold of the bedclothes, covering his child up to his waist. "Rest now. It'll do you good."

The blue depths stared at him with such earnestness that the Dark Lord quivered inside. Force, those eyes! He couldn't hide from them; they made him want the impossible, for what they offered was... the impossible. And it couldn't be.

It couldn't. Not to him.

A long silence, full of 'if onlys' and bitter regrets followed, until Luke let out a defeated sigh and closed his eyes.

Vader stroked down the smooth cheek with the back of his fingers one last time, before taking his seat beside his son's bed and looking his fill of his reason to live. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

Eventually, Luke's respiration became calmer and slower as sleep began to claim him.

"Thank heavens," Leia whispered absent-mindedly. "He pushed it pretty hard."

"Yeah," Han nodded. "A small nap will do wonders for him."

The Princess' eyes were riveted on Father and Son. Luke's head was turned towards Vader, always attuned to his presence as if he needed it to breathe. And the black mask was totally focused on the sleeping youth, as if imprinting every minute detail of the lovely face in his memory...

Unthinkingly, Leia reached for the Force. She didn't know what she was looking for, she just opened herself to it, letting it guide her, show her...

She stiffened in her chair abruptly.

"Wha-?" Han turned to her with a start.

Leia didn't give him time to phrase his question.

"Now that he's sleeping, maybe we should go and have a proper lunch at the mess," she suggested. "I for one would welcome something other than sandwiches and soup," she threw them a knowing look.

"Y-yeah, me too," Lando was the first to react, suspecting that she was up to something.

Han blinked at Leia, who was casually getting up from her seat. Quickly catching up, he followed suit as did Chewie.

"We'll be back in 30-40 minutes," the Princess smiled gently at Vader. "Take care of him."

Vader nodded at the retreating group.

"I will," he said as the doors closed after them.

Once alone with his son and the droids, the Sith Lord looked around, taking in the emptier room. It felt colder somehow, and the silence bounced off the walls creating a strange buzzing sensation in his skull.

Artoo beeped happily and Vader turned to him. The little droid rolled up to the bed and let out a string of soft cooing sounds that immediately brought him back to a different time, decades ago.

"Yes, Artoo," he said in his lowest tone of voice. "If _she_ were here..." almost choking on the words, he turned to his child in the bed. Her legacy, the living proof of her love for him. "And she _is_ ," he nodded to himself. "She lives in him, through him; her spirit, her integrity, her love." He raised his eyes heavenwards. "And mine also."

He had made peace with himself after all, and it was this unearthly angel who had made it happen.

"He is our gift to this galaxy. Through him, a new Jedi Order will rise, free from doctrine and dogma."

He sank to one knee, placing his hand on the warm forehead, hardly daring to move it for fear of waking the boy up.

"The brightest future awaits you, my son, and also a terrible responsibility; but I have the utmost faith in you. Obi-Wan and Yoda have taught you well, and under your wise guidance, the next generation of Jedi Knights will see the Light of day."

He shuddered with the wave of emotions churning inside him.

"Whatever Good that's left in me will always be with you, little one. My legacy is one of Darkness, Death and failure, but you can also learn from it; from my mistakes," he made a heavy pause, crushed by the weight of the genocide he'd lustfully taken part of. "My unforgivable, ghastly mistakes."

The admission of his uncountable crimes didn't ease the burden or change anything.

It _never_ would.

His gaze wandered into the distance; far, far away, to a time and place that were long gone, and to a Destiny in perpetual motion that was yet to come.

And he knew that his Time was upon him.

Collecting himself, he looked down at the sleeping innocent. So trusting, lying there, unafraid of committing himself to the care of a heinous criminal, with the blood of a thousand worlds on his hands and his conscience.

But no more. No more blood would be shed. Except Palpatine's. And _his own_.

He smiled as he experienced an unaccustomed, sublime sense of inner peace.

"It is time for me to face _my_ Destiny as the Jedi I once was. Far too late, I know, but for the first time in my life, I want to leave behind a legacy you can be proud of. I need you to remember me if only with a touch of grace."

His bittersweet smile transformed into one of untold love. Of a love so sacred that made every instant of his life worthwhile - the good, the bad, even the unspeakable.

Bravely, he caressed the wide forehead with his fingertips. Back and forth, over and over, in an unconscious soothing motion.

"Farewell, my angel. Take my blessing with you as well as my heart, for that's where I will live from now on," he pressed his palm against the side of the perfect face. "Forever," he sealed his oath with a feathery brush on the full lips.

He rose smoothly and turned about.

Artoo planted himself in front of him with a sad whistle. Ruefully, Vader put his hands on the domed head and crouched down.

"I need you to do something for me, Artoo," he waited for the acknowledging beep. "I need you to take care of him as well as you took care of me," he smiled as a hundred memories flooded his mind, "I know you have been doing it all these years, just... be his guardian, his protector. Keep him from harm as much as you can. Promise?"

Artoo let out a chirpy whistle followed by a soft raspberry that sounded like a reproach.

"I know you don't understand why I'm doing this, and I'm grateful that it is so," Vader sighed and paused. "Now," he swallowed hard, "you and Threepio watch over him. His friends will be back shortly."

The little droid beeped his agreement and then emitted a sorrowful, low-toned noise.

"You too," Vader nodded and stood up again. His eyes settled next on the golden droid, a few steps behind Artoo, who contemplated the scene with his big round eyes, frozen in a permanent expression of confusion, and a burst of naked affection washed over him. "Goodbye, Threepio," he walked up to him and put one hand on the metallic shoulder. "It has been good to see you again."

"That's very nice of you to say, sir," Threepio's words only underscored the Dark Lord's feelings of utter loss. Pulling himself together ruthlessly, he walked past the droid and strode over to the door without looking back.

 _'Now, be brave and don't look back. Don't look back.'_

The door hissed open before him and he crossed the threshold.

His feet came to a stop.

 _'I can't do it, Mum. I just can't do it!'_

He whirled around and upon looking on the perfection in front of him, he truly, _finally_ understood.

 _'How could you take it, Mother? How could you stand there and let me go? It's ripping me apart!'_

His eyes caressed the beloved form, the pain in his chest so unbearable he thought he would cave in and die.

But then, inexplicably, a sudden surge of strength, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, infused him with the resolve he lacked to do what had to be done. For _him_ , for the only one who mattered.

The ultimate act of love. To let go. Now he knew the answer.

 _'May the Force be with you, my treasure. May the Fates allow me to gaze upon your sweet face again someday,'_ he sent through their mental bond.

Sensing that his newfound courage might fail him all too soon, Vader turned around savagely and walked away.

TO BE CONCLUDED...


	19. Chapter 19

The corridors seemed endless. He covered one after another, a part of him wondering at not meeting anyone along the way. He knew the Princess had limited the access to the infirmary, but he had already ventured beyond that area and into non-cleared corridors, or so he thought, and there was still no sign of another living soul.

Whatever the reason, he wasn't about to question his good fortune. He kept walking until he reached the double doors leading to the hangar deck. They opened at his approach and he entered without hesitation, his eyes already set on the two Lambda shuttles parked there. Reckoning that the one to his left was the one that Solo, Calrissian and Chewbacca had arrived in, he headed straight for the other. The ramp was down, as if inviting him in, and he hastened his steps.

"What's the rush? Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

The Sith Lord's heart almost stopped on hearing that voice and he froze dead on the spot. Turning his head, he saw Princess Leia, Han Solo, Lando Calrissian and Chewbacca appear from behind the shuttle he was about to board. They walked along the side of the vessel and stopped a few metres to his left.

Vader's legs finally obeyed him and he went to meet them, feeling both frustrated at having been discovered and relieved that he had. This wasn't the way he wanted to end his association with these outstanding people and he was glad for the opportunity to take his leave of them honourably.

"You seriously didn't think you'd be able to fool us, did you?" the Princess raised an eyebrow, looking at him with calculated disdain.

Getting back his wits, Vader replied with the same degree of sarcasm.

"This is the last time I will underestimate your capacity to surprise me."

Beneath his audacious rejoinder lay a real concern that they'd try to stop him, even now.

With a chuckle, the façade dropped and a genuine smile softened the lovely feminine features.

"Don't worry, we won't stop you," she put his fears at ease as if she'd read his mind. "Whether I approve it or not, this is the path you have chosen, and I will respect it, even though I think you're wrong."

Vader cocked his head to one side.

"You're speaking as a Jedi should," he said with profound admiration.

Leia snorted ironically.

"Yeah, well, at least I was able to anticipate your... sneaky departure."

Realizing what she was actually saying and what it meant, Vader felt himself in the obligation to confront the issue again, for her own good.

"The Force is very strong with you. Please, allow my son to train you. Your soul has already been in touch with the mystical connection that exists between all living things, and the journey of discovery it will mean. It is such an incomparable gift... Don't let it to go wasted."

The Princess' eyes skittered around the place nervously for a minute, considering all the variables, all the risks and responsibilities... And the rewards.

"All... right," she gave in at the end, looking up into his mask. "I don't know where this will take me and to be honest it spooks me a little, but what I've seen... what I felt..." her eyes took on a dreamy quality at the memory of what they had shared. "It will be worth it, I know."

Vader heaved a sigh of vast relief. For her. For the Light. For the Force itself.

"Thank you for making your decision. Your potential is extraordinary. The Force lingers around you like a flowing tide. You will not regret it."

His words seemed to remind her of something and she bent forward with vivid interest.

"I've been meaning to ask you, how could you tell I was strong in the Force when you came onboard, but didn't feel it in me in all the years we crossed paths?"

"I've also asked myself that question," Vader admitted, awestruck by her insight. "And the only answer I can think of is that you never tapped from it before."

His eyes covered the hangar deck in one sweeping glance.

"The Force is everywhere, all around us, always at the edge of our perception. But only those gifted enough can feel it and make use of it. It would be akin to someone being the greatest painter who ever existed. No one would ever know unless they picked up a paintbrush and a blank canvas and created a masterpiece. I only became aware that you were Force-sensitive when you were _consciously_ open to it."

Leia considered Vader's explanation.

"Makes sense," she nodded assent in the end. "My life was always a pragmatic one. If I was aware of the Force at some point during my childhood, I closed the door on it at such an early age that I don't remember anymore."

"This is your chance to reconnect with your past and gain wisdom and enlightenment from it," Vader encouraged her. "It all will come back to you the moment you allow the Force access to the deepest recesses of your mind."

The Princess' suddenly closed face revealed nothing, but then she nodded again.

"It already enlightened me with those dreams I had about Luke and... you," she admitted vaguely. "It emboldened me to make the decision to seek you out although it went against all my principles. If the Force can open my mind beyond my prejudices and guide me to a higher Truth, then I will be a well-rounded, more balanced person at the end of the day."

Speechless, Vader just blinked, staring at the young woman as if seeing her for the first time.

Whatever the will of the Force was, it was clear to him now how influenced and shaped by it all of them had been. This was a pivotal moment in their lives, the beginning of something none of them could imagine, but whose consequences would result in a chain reaction that would echo throughout the galaxy for many years to come.

The dark eyes gazed at him with kindness and understanding, and the Dark Lord couldn't help but wonder what they saw in him and how he could deserve that look from her.

"I thank you for saving Luke's life," her heartfelt emotions resonated through the Force like the chime of a bell, shaking him to the marrow. "If I had lost him I don't know what I'd..." she trembled at the images undoubtedly flashing before her eyes. "I... I can't define what he means to me. Sometimes I think he's closer to me than flesh and blood. The soul-brother I never had."

Her fervent declaration caused a powerful ripple in the Force, and it embedded itself in the Dark Lord's heart. The bond between Force-sensitives _could be_ closer than flesh and blood but... There was something else at work here... A deeper truth... He shuddered.

Such bond... Such devotion... Strong enough to commit an act of treason because your life will _end_ if you lose that person...

He could _so_ relate to it; it was his vital experience now and it would be for as long as he existed. He lived it, he breathed it, it defined him.

"Until we see each other again... May the Force be with you," Leia reached out her right hand, waiting for him to shake it.

Stunned, Vader stared at the little hand for a long moment.

Even after everything he'd done...

So much better than him.

Urgently craving the forgiveness that tiny hand could offer, Vader took it in his own oh-so-gently and sank to one knee before the shocked Princess.

"I tortured you, I stood by while your homeworld was destroyed and your family killed, I tortured and mutilated those you loved, I murdered countless innocents unremorsefully for decades, I abandoned every principle and broke every rule to feed my own selfish greed. I am a monster, unworthy of kneeling at your feet," he took a painful breath that seared through his lungs. "Still, I... I..." he swallowed the burning lump in his throat. "I'm daring to ask you to _please_ have mercy on me, to _please_ forgive me. Please, your highness."

Somehow, he found the willpower to look up into her eyes and dropped every shield, every pretense, every _mask_ , just like he did with his son.

"Please, Leia," his voice cracked as his thumbpad caressed the back of the small hand in a pleading gesture that came to him unbidden.

A profound emotion stirred behind the big brown eyes looking down at him. Vader felt something being released into the Force, something dark and ugly, and the little hand squeezed him hard, almost in a spasm.

"I forgive you."

The Sith Lord felt the tremendous weight being lifted from _both_ their shoulders. The Force spiralled joyfully around them, wrapping them in a healing and eminently _loving_ bond that made him want to cry.

Overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment between them she clearly didn't know how to handle, the Princess coughed almost in embarrassment. Her awkwardness dealing with strong emotions in front of others became more evident than ever, and something in Vader softened. He could SO relate to that.

"If someone had told me only ten days ago that this is where I would be today, I would've sworn they didn't know me _at all._ I never thought I'd be able to forgive... _so_ _much_. To forgive * _you_ *, period," she gave him a lopsided grin, so reminiscent of the man she loved. "But I guess that's one of the advantages of being strong in the Force. It's as if I could _read_ you inside out. You're so open right now... You're allowing it, aren't you?" she stated as an afterthought.

Vader tilted his head in answer.

Leia looked deeper into Vader, exploring this ability, testing its limits, its boundaries... and not finding any, for Vader was letting her in as deeply as she wanted to go.

Pain, more pain than she'd be able to bear in a million lifetimes, regret beyond comprehension, self-loathing and self-hatred so great that it bordered on insanity...

...And love. So much love! For his son, for _them_ , for his regained humanity. Boundless, unlimited love.

His capacity to love rivalled _Luke's_.

Was that the _real_ reason why he had turned to the Dark Side? Because the loss of all that love, not having anything and anyone to lay it on could only be bearable by turning to Hate and Murder?

It was terrifying. Appalling. Unthinkable. Sickening.

And even more terrifying, if she were ever faced with the same situation...?

 _Learn from my mistakes and never, *ever* be like me._

She gave a little jump. Had she really heard those words in her head or had they been a product of her imagination?

She stared at the Dark Lord in confusion and despair.

How would he live with himself from now on? Where would he find the courage to _want_ to go on?

Pity and compassion swelled within her. If only there was a way for him to find peace, a sliver of sanity to hold on to and _cope_...

But Vader's only comfort was sleeping in the infirmary, oblivious to the decision that had been made for both and the excruciating sacrifice it would entail.

"It makes _all_ the difference when you're not speculating about someone else's true intentions," tears brimmed in her eyes. "When you just *know* it, as _absolutely_ as you know what's inside yourself. In a way, it's as much a curse as a blessing." She sighed wearily. "I just hope it's worth all the tears Luke is going to cry. I hope it's worth all the 'what ifs' you two could have had together," she shook her head mournfully. "I can't help but feel you're robbing him of the happiness he's earned after a lifetime of... _aching_ for you."

Vader winced at her dismayed recrimination as she shook herself off her defeatist mood.

"But I will _never_ doubt your commitment to him and the Alliance. I will _never_ doubt your love for your son. I want you to know that you will be welcomed back when the war is over. You have my word, as a commander of the Rebellion and as a friend," she rolled her eyes at her own words. "Blast it, I can't believe what I'm saying!" After a pause, she gave him a real, open, _affectionate_ smile, holding his gaze. "Go in peace, and be safe."

The Sith Lord's breath hitched.

Unbelievable. Just... Unbelievable.

"You... heal my soul," the voice coming from the vocoder sounded like sandpaper. Raspy, hoarse, and bleeding with gratitude. "Thank you, Princess, for that's exactly what you are. True and legitimate royalty. Of the blood and of the heart," he bowed his head over their hands. Then, he struggled to his feet.

Dark Lord and Princess looked into each other's eyes one last time before releasing one another with a courteous, respectful nod.

Moving his eyes away from her with great effort, Vader turned to Han Solo. Just his stance, tall and protective, cried out how much the former smuggler cared about the tiny force of nature beside him.

A noble man, and a deserving future husband.

Facing him head on, Vader reached out to him unhesitatingly.

Solo looked down at the gloved hand for a minute, as if examining how they'd come to that. But when his eyes raised to his, they shone with understated humour, and the impenitent crooked grin made its appearance.

Not giving Vader time to react, he took the proffered hand and shook it.

"Apology accepted."

The armoured body started back in astonishment, eliciting a low snicker from the younger man.

"Yes, you tried to kill us the moment you knew of our existence; you chased us like a rabid Rancor for years; you tortured me, and Leia, and Chewie, to lure in a kid I love like a brother. You maimed Luke and put his mind and his body on the brink of death. You alone have caused more harm to all of us personally than any other Imperial."

The Corellian's concise summary of the atrocities he'd carried out against them slashed through Vader like a lightsaber. The big form swayed, dizzy with self-revulsion; but somehow finding his balance again, he straightened up to his full height. He would brave those accusations unflinchingly, for they were nothing but the Truth.

"But like Leia and I'm sure the rest of us," he looked passingly at Chewie and Lando next to him, "I've learned a couple things in the past few days. Three months ago, you didn't give a damn about our lives, and now you do. You were so full of rage that you cut off your own son's hand. It was no trouble for you to hurt others because you wanted them to hate you as much as you hate yourself, to feel as much pain as you felt."

The Dark Lord's eyes dropped closed. That young man's insight cut too deep. But what hurt the most was the compassion and understanding offered in spades by the very people he'd abused.

It really didn't come as a surprise to discover that a part of him _still_ wanted to be hated, because he would hate himself for the rest of his life.

Would he ever get rid of these ugly feelings that were like a slow poison corroding his soul?

"Personally, I can't hold a grudge against someone who's changed to the degree that you have," the Corellian's light-hearted tone of voice tore him from his somber musings. "You're simply _not_ that person anymore. So," the roguish grin returned and the grip on his hand tightened, "welcome back, Anakin Skywalker."

The second time being addressed by that name was even more shocking than the first, because it was coming from a direct victim of his cruelty. And paradoxically, the shock made the name more real. Real enough that he could _begin_ to recognize himself in it again.

A dry smile grazed his lips.

"Thank you, Captain Solo, but you'll excuse me if I need to say the words. I _owe_ them to you." At the fast nod, he took a deep, harsh breath. "Will you forgive me for my past wrongdoings, for the pain I caused you, and all the evil I have done to you and your loved ones?"

The quirky grin turned fond in seconds.

"Yes, I _do_ forgive you," the emphatic answer was underlined by a strong shake of his mechanical hand. "I forgive you as long as you promise to return and give your son all the love he deserves."

"You have my solemn vow that I _will_ return and be with my child for as long as he wants me," the wild passion in Vader's voice swept everyone away like a hurricane.

The Corellian's jaw slackened and he stared at the Sith Lord in sheer disbelief for the longest instant. Finally, he composed himself with another nod.

"Good then," he smiled easily. "May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you, Captain," Vader answered in kind. "It was an honour to meet your acquaintance. My son is fortunate to have people like you at his side. And so am I." Now that he was leaving, not knowing if the Fates would grant him his most cherished wish, he wanted his child's friends to know in how much esteem he held them. They'd earned _his_ loyalty as much as his precious son had.

Solo released his hand in silence, his eyes giving away the emotion he would never express openly in front of him.

Chewbacca awaited his turn, his stand firm and apparently unyielding. Looking up at him steadily, Vader raised his hand in a gesture that only a Wookiee could understand.

"Chewbacca, I want to-"

That was as far as he could go before the hairy giant planted his paws right below his shoulder plate, on his upper arms, and then enfolded him in a mighty Wookiee hug. The Dark Lord found himself pressed hard against the powerful body, almost disappearing in it.

It was the first time he'd been hugged in decades, and albeit awkward and definitely uncomfortable because of his suit and the height difference, Vader found it exceedingly comforting, calming even. It was almost as if the Wookiee had known that somewhere deep down, really _really_ deep down...

Then, Chewie growled some words to him and Vader's world narrowed down to them and the warmth of the big body all wrapped around him.

"No, you were right," he replied to the Wookiee's apology. "You were right about me. In one way or another, I have _always_ been a slave. A slave of my passions, of my flaws and shortcomings. They led me to where I am today."

Suddenly needing to see Chewbacca's face, he tried to move back. The Wookiee allowed it but kept his hands on Vader's upper ams, continuing the physical contact between them.

"But as impossible as it seems," the Sith Lord let out a sad smile, "as undeserving of it as I am, they also led me back to my son, the son I thought lost forever in every way, and to the family he found and created along his journey. I couldn't ask for a better gift. And I thank you all so very much for that. For taking care of him, for protecting him, for loving him. He will never be alone, and you can't imagine how that thought comforts me."

Chewie growled a short avowal.

"Thank you," Vader looked down, humbled by the creature's seemingly unending generosity. "Thank you from the depths of my being." Reaching up, he grabbed the hairy shoulders, completing the circle, and squeezed them intensely. "Will you forgive my many trespasses and transgressions, to you and those you care for?"

One single, fiery growl.

Vader's helmeted head hung in humility. He couldn't deserve... He just couldn't...

Chewbacca shook the Dark Lord's arms encouragingly, snapping him out of his mortifying thoughts. When he had his full attention again, he imparted some vehement words of wisdom, urging Vader to listen _and_ believe in them.

"I-I will try," was all Vader had left to offer, moving his arms down from the Wookiee's shoulders and letting them hang at his sides. How to believe in his right to be forgiven when he didn't believe it himself?

One day at a time, maybe, as Chewie cleverly advised.

He gave the Wookiee a bleak smile, somehow knowing he would see it. Chewie patted his arms with a nod and then let him go.

Soul tired, the Sith Lord turned his head to Lando Calrissian who, as if feeling his utter exhaustion, took one small step forward, raising his hand with the palm outward.

"Contrary to my friends here and before you say anything," he cast a quick look to his left, where Leia, Han and Chewie stood, "I feel I'm the one who should thank _you_."

Vader blinked in stupefaction, wondering if the man in front of him had lost his mind. But Calrissian just smiled knowingly.

"You see," his eyes turned introspective, "before you wreaked havoc in our little mining outpost, my life on Bespin was one of a bureaucrat, a glorified storekeeper actually, even if I liked to see myself as a savvy businessman. Always pushing for the best possible deal and crossing my fingers that we never attracted the attention of the Empire; which we did of course, although not in a way I'd have envisioned," he laughed wryly in remembrance. "Little did I know that when you and your troops 'relieved' me from my responsibilities by taking control of the city, you would be doing me a favour."

Vader remained silent, letting the ex-entrepreneur explain himself. Maybe things would make sense when he did.

"Your actions forced me to make a decision," Lando went on. "Whether I wanted to keep maintaining an immoral neutrality as long as my business was spared or make a stand once and for all. Unknowingly, _you_ put me on the right path; in the path of these great people next to me and your amazing kid," he shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm grateful for being given a chance to make a difference and fight for a just cause. It made me a better person."

The Sith Lord tried desperately to think of something to say, anything that conveyed his conviction that each and every one of the gentlebeings in front of him were a billion times better than him, a billion times better than the best version of himself, should it exist; but in the end, the most respectful answer was his silence.

And Calrissian took the opportunity.

"Thank you most sincerely for that," he declared with the kindest smile, reaching out _his_ hand.

Vader looked down at it in awe, wishing he could give back as much as he was receiving.

Taking the man's hand in his, he squeezed it with the same fervour it squeezed him.

"Will you forgive my ruthlessness, my brutality? Will you ever be able to look at me and not see the beast that tortured your friends and ruined what you built?"

Calrissian gave him a warm smile.

"I already do."

"Thank you, sir," Vader breathed after a brief pause. The formality felt out of place, but it was the only way he could go on at this point.

Lando nodded, accepting the Dark Lord's awkward approach, suspecting the reason behind it.

They released one another politely and Vader took one step back, taking in the entire group in one single glance. His eyes settled on the beautiful Princess last, who stared at him with a sort of amused little smile on her face that seemed odd, considering the circumstances.

"Farewell." He bid goodbye with a bow and turned around.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

The feminine voice made him look back at the petite young woman that, with a teasing grin, handed him something she'd been hiding behind her back all the time. An awfully familiar, metallic object.

His lightsaber.

Vader stared at it, a part of him bemoaning the fact that he'd totally forgotten about it and another part thoroughly disgusted by it.

Reluctantly, he walked over to the Princess, and the two of them laid eyes on the weapon he'd used to mutilate his own son.

Just the sight of it...

Meeting each other's gaze simultaneously, Vader knew she was thinking along the same lines as he. She offered him a shaky smile and shook her head bravely.

 _'You'll have it back when you leave.'_

How far they'd come since she'd spat those words at him! Neither of them was the same person anymore. Solo was right.

There was nothing he wanted more than to tear that thing apart piece by piece, but it would be impossible for him to justify its loss before Palpatine. To all intents and purposes, he was returning to the Empire as the same vicious, merciless Sith Lord who'd left days ago.

Vader snatched the lightsaber from the small hand and attached it to his belt contemptuously.

Quick as lightning, the same little hand shot out and grabbed his, squeezing it in a gesture as full of forgiveness as his son's had been.

Vader's heart went out to her, so swiftly and completely that his chest felt about to explode with emotions not unlike his child evoked in him.

Holding on to her hand, _clinging_ to it like a life preserver, he squeezed back and reached out tentatively with the other in the boldest move he'd _ever_ attempted.

Wondrously, instead of rejecting it - rejecting him – the Princess gave him a wistful smile and her dark eyes gave their consent.

His fingertips made the slightest contact with the rosy cheek, hardly daring to touch too much. Her lashes flickered like snowflakes and she breathed on his palm, letting out a long, melancholic sigh.

Feeling his throat constrict with a piercing blending of joy and unimaginable sorrow, Vader turned his hands into fists and whipped round, heading for the ramp with long, abrupt strides.

 _'Stop! Stop now. Come back!'_

His mechanical legs felt wobbly and heavy as lead, his very lifeforce was weakening, and he wondered if it was possible to die of longing, for every step that separated him more from his son felt like a knife through the heart.

He was committing the worst crime. He was denying them both the only comfort that could ease their pain. One another.

 _Force. Sweet Force._

HELP ME!

"FATHER!"

Vader stopped cold halfway up the ramp.

No. No way in all the...

He spun around.

Time stood still as the opened hangar doors showed a deadly thin, deathly pale young man practically dragging himself across the floor, left arm wrapped around the dome of an Artoo unit that beeped like mad, trying to draw everybody's attention. On the youth's other side, a golden droid held him up by his right arm, doing his best to keep him from collapsing.

The Force rose triumphantly in a momentous blast of Light like the Dark Lord had never experienced before; and yet, petrified by the inconceivable appearance, he could do nothing but stare in absolute incredulity.

"Father! Father, don't go! I need you! Please. PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"

And then, Vader's legs were moving, walking down the ramp with increasingly faster and lighter steps, until his feet didn't seem to touch the floor.

Seeing his father run towards him rekindled the young man's fading strength, and in a final effort that drained what was left of his energy, he pushed himself off the droids supporting him and walked the final metres by himself, reaching out to the older man frantically.

Father and Son crashed into each other, sliding down to the floor as they wrapped their arms around one another in a bone-shattering hug.

The boy buried his face in his father's shoulder plate, continuing his ceaseless pleading.

"Please, please, don't go! I know I'm being selfish, I know I should be better than this, but I just can't lose you. I can't! Stay, Father! Please, don't leave me!"

"Oh, little one!" Vader moaned, pulling his child's exhausted body tighter against him. "You are not selfish! You are the most decent, forgiving and perfect human being I've ever known!" he put one steadying hand on the back of the lolling head that didn't even have the strength to hold its own weight anymore. "What are you doing, compromising your recovery like this, my angel?"

"I had to do it! I had to!" Luke exclaimed breathlessly. "I needed to tell you. I needed to ask you!" his hand grabbed a handful of his father's cape and then he tried to move back to look at him.

Feeling his intent, Vader wrapped his arms more securely around his son and pulled back just enough to gaze upon the beloved face.

The blond hair was sweaty and plastered to the child's scalp in places; the haggard but so beautiful countenance was flushed now with the extreme exertion, and the cheeks were covered with wet teartracks that sliced through the Dark Lord's soul.

Reaching up timidly, he wiped them away with his fingertips, afraid that the leather of his gloves would scratch the delicate skin.

"Don't cry, my son," he begged quaveringly. "Please, don't. I'm not worth a single of your tears."

"But they're happy tears, Father!" Luke protested. "For this is the happiest moment of my life. Every minute we've been together has been the happiest of my life!" The entrancing, crystal blue depths skittered all over the hideous mask, caressing it with liquid waves of reverent adoration. Bringing his only hand around, he settled his palm on the hard planes and angles of the black durasteel and fingered it all over, imagining his father's face behind. He smiled woefully on hearing the man's sharp intake of breath. "I love you." And with those three little words he revealed himself in everything he was and everything he would ever be. "I love you so much!"

The young man's guileless admission of his feelings for his father drove a massive wedge in the pestilent Darkness that had ruled the galaxy for over two decades, and the Light started to filter through the cracks, ready for the final destiny of the Force to be decided.

Leia took hold of her true love's hand, knocked off balance by the shockwaves spreading through the very fabric of the Force. She couldn't understand what was going on in all its implications, she just knew that the scene before her was the portrait of Love itself in all its raw, vulnerable and glorious purity, and that Vader's next decision would determine not only the outcome of the war but the Fate of every single being inhabiting this galaxy of horrors and wonders. She felt Han's hand returning the pressure with the same intensity _and_ hope.

His son's heart-stopping confession, faithful and innocent, as good and true as it could be, sanctioned earnestly by the Force, razed through whatever speck of Darkness that might remain ensconced in Vader's soul. The Sith Lord felt as if something physical, as real as the child he was holding in his arms, was walking through every nook and niche of his being and cleansing him for good. Not only that, as if it was _disabling_ him for the Dark Side for all eternity.

One look into those heartbreaking, all-encompassing eyes, and he understood. He understood it _all_.

 _At last_ , something inside him cheered.

Now, he could only honour the gift he didn't deserve with everything he had to give, as poor as it was. All of himself. Because he craved it. He craved it like the air he breathed. If that was being selfish, then so be it.

Lightly, he took the roaming hand on his mask in his own and brought it down, next to his chest plate.

"Hold on to me," he told his son with a watery catch in his voice.

Uncomprehending, Luke obeyed, his heavenly eyes uselessly riveted on his empty sockets.

When he felt that his son was safely perched against him, he reached for his helmet.

"No!" Luke called out in abject fear on hearing the depressurizing sound of the life-support breathing apparatus.

Anakin quickly brought down one hand and put his forefinger on his little one's lips.

"Shhhh, it is all right," he reassured. "I can breathe the same air as you for a few minutes. I will be perfectly fine," he stroked the now pale cheek with the back of his hand and smiled apologetically. "I am a grisly sight and I beg forgiveness for what you're about to see, angel, but I _need_ to look on you with my own eyes. It's been so long since I gazed upon another human being..." his eyes stung with the pent up pain of suppressed memories surging up like a volcano. "I need you to be the first, and the last when the time comes. Please, my son," he implored brokenly. " _Please_."

Luke bit his lips, torn between his father's request and his worry for his well-being. In the end, trusting the older man's word, he nodded his agreement.

Bringing his hands up again, Anakin took off his helmet and put it on the floor. Then, he reached for his mask and, careful to not damage the fasteners – it was always the pincer-like devices inside his pod that took care of that – he detached it from around his neck. It came off surprisingly easily.

The first thing he felt was the brush of the 'air' all over his skin, and his peripheral vision was inundated with soft bright _light_ coming from everywhere at once. It was always so dim and reddish inside the mask that he'd forgotten there were other colours in the spectrum.

Taking the mask off his face with unexpected apprehension, he almost dropped it when his eyes encountered the splendorous vision waiting for him mere centimetres away.

"Oh, my..."

He was unprepared; _wholly_ unprepared...

Luke stared at him unblinkingly, apparently transfixed by what he saw; but Anakin couldn't remember _ever_ being so moved in his life. This was his child in front of him. They were actually _face to face_ , with no barriers between them.

His son. Flesh of his flesh.

 _My flesh and blood. My heart and my soul. My dearest life..._

He reached for the luminous face just as his child's hand reached up for his.

"Ohhh!" he groaned when the warm palm rested on his cheek. The sensation - utterly foreign after so many years - of being touched, rippled through his body, making his insides clench violently. His eyes dropped closed.

"Father..." his son's dulcet tone of voice seemed to be coming from far away.

"Y-your voice..." he stammered in wonderment with another shudder. "The sound of your voice, Luke..." he whispered rapturously. "Vibrating... Caressing my mind..."

The unsteady hand's touch became firmer then, sliding all over his face experimentally. His cheeks, his nose, his forehead, the deep scar running over his scalp... The fist in his stomach clenched even tighter. Every molecule in his body hummed like the strings of a melodium.

The nimble fingers breezed over his skin so attentively, so carefully, feeling him as much as he was feeling them. Touching deep, so deep it was tearing him apart.

Too many sensations, too overwhelming. Too much.

 _Too much._

He gasped and his eyes opened. He blinked hard several times and smiled, once again captivated by the view.

Luke's own smile was tremulous, uncertain, but his eyes... There were no words in any language to describe those eyes.

"Like yours," his son murmured unevenly. His fingertips settled on his eyelids, barely brushing them. "My eyes are like yours. They're so blue, Father... So beautiful."

"No, my angel," Anakin corrected him self-derisively. "Your eyes don't come from me. They come down from Force heaven. Like your unblemished soul," the relentless fist was twisting his guts into a knot.

"No, Father, no. Please, don't..." the sudden distress in his child's voice felt so wrong, but before he could say anything, the boy brought his hand around the back of his neck and lowered his head. His lips pressed against his right eye in a life-breathing kiss, and then they moved over to the left, gathering the wetness there and leaving a feathery tremor in their wake.

 _'I'm crying. I'm crying!'_ Anakin suddenly realized, feeling terribly small and lost. He was crying and his son had wiped his tears away with his own lips.

Luke's unfaltering mouth moved down to the deep scars across his left cheek, kissing them tenderly; then he ventured down the pasty white skin of his face, raining tiny little kisses all over it.

Anakin was paralysed. Literally. He _couldn't_ move. His son's act of love had robbed him of words, thoughts and even movement.

His heart fluttered with the softest sound, like a lullaby. A sound he wanted to keep on hearing for the remainder of his life. That dainty melody rocked his soul, promising that he was fine, that he would be fine and that everything would be wonderful and perfect. Because he was loved. Loved.

 _Loved._

And then, the melodic sound rearranged itself in his head, coming together into actual words.

"Don't cry, Father. Don't cry, please. This is such a happy moment... And I love you so, so very much..."

His son was doing more than kiss him. He was nuzzling him. Luke was caressing his face with his own, giving comfort, giving love in the most primal way of all. In the way he most needed it. Skin to skin. Flesh to flesh.

Twenty years. Twenty years without this. Twenty years trapped in this suit that was more like a coffin. Imprisoned. Walled up. Buried alive.

In a sudden delayed reaction, he became incandescent with sensation. As if every dying cell of what was left of his body was being revived one by one.

Through his son's love. Through his pure, childlike, unabashed love.

Shivering so hard that he almost dislodged his boy from his grasp, Anakin's spirit rose forth to meet his child's loving. No more pandering to his needs. He _would_ be the father this utter miracle deserved. This young man who'd never asked anything for himself, until now. Always thinking of others, always putting everybody else first. This was the only thing his precious son had ever asked of him, and he would have it.

Reaching up, he took hold of the hand on the back of his neck and engulfed it in his own.

"That is enough, angel. Please, stop," he asked, trying to move back from the lips that wouldn't stop their healing path all over his face. "I need you to listen to me now." He whimpered when he felt the tip of his son's nose grazing his. Sniffing.

Sniffing _him_.

So primary. So basic. Creating a sensory memory of his parent, like a newborn. Memories of touches, sounds, scents.

Not knowing how, Anakin managed to pull himself together while his body soaked up the electrifying caresses to his scarred skin. The tsunami of soul-deep chills washing over him was the closest thing to heaven he would ever be.

He had just been made new again. Reborn. Born again in his child's arms. And now, it was his turn to heal.

"Are you listening to me, Son?" he asked, cupping the side of the pink face in his other hand and leaning forward, pinning the glassy blue gaze with his own. "I need you to listen and _believe_ , because this is the truth. The truth that defines me. For you, and only for you."

Like a flower turning to the sun, Anakin felt Luke's presence into the Force become blazingly strong and totally open to him. Projecting an immense serenity and enveloping him in it, the boy nodded.

Drawing from that serenity and taking a calming breath, Anakin let go of every restraint, stripped himself of every protective wall he'd ever built to keep people at a distance, as flimsy as it was. No self-consciousness, no shame. This was all of him, bare and exposed down to the bone.

"I love you, Luke. I love you with everything I am."

A deep shudder wracked the frail body from head to foot. Everything that Luke Skywalker was, convulsed in the warmth of his father's embrace.

"I loved you the instant your mother told me she was pregnant. Since that day, I dreamed of the moment I would hold you in my arms and see your little face and your eyes looking into mine," he smiled at the poignant realization. "I dreamed of _this_ moment."

Luke's eyes filled with tears and his chin began to quiver.

"When I lost you, I lost all hope, all reason to live," Anakin's own eyes misted also. "I was an empty shell that only animal anger could fill," he shook his head in infinite remorse. "I should have put an end to my existence right then and there, but I didn't. And now I know why."

He smiled like he hadn't done since that fateful day, when the happiest moment of his life had occurred. He unhurriedly released the hand he was holding and took the beloved head between both of his.

"This is why."

Lingeringly, Anakin bent forward and pressed his lips to the wide forehead.

"My dearest," he murmured, dropping another kiss a little bit lower, "beautiful son. Now I am complete," his lips took on a life of their own and he lost all sense of propriety, kissing time and time again, all over the adored face. "Now I am at peace. You are my world, my freedom, all the goodness in me. I love you. I love you more than anything."

Luke's subdued sobbing and his hand jerking up to grab his wrist, seeking more human contact, made Anakin lose any inhibition he had left. Something primordial awakened inside him and just like his little angel before him, he began to caress his child's face with his own; sliding their skin together, nuzzling it, learning it by touch alone.

He wanted to prolong this moment for as long as possible, to live in it forever, but the Force was screaming at him to seal their Destinies, and it would wait no longer.

He was so full inside. So full of love for this boy that he had sired... He moved his lips to the hand grabbing his wrist and kissed the fingers one by one. Luke's helpless wail was the last straw. Acting on sheer instinct, he felt down his son's right arm and rolled up the sleeve of the medical gown, revealing the stump at the end of the forearm. Cradling it between his palms like a holy offering, he kissed it with all the passion and grief that exploded from his core, wetting it with renewed tears that burned his eyes with as much self-hate as repentance.

With a choked cry, Luke snuggled up to Anakin's body desperately, as if he needed it to live.

Touching his forehead to his child's, breathing the same air as he, Anakin quietly made his oath.

"I will stay. I will stay for as long as you want me to."

"Forever, then. Forever!" Luke was feverish in his need for reassurance.

A contented, soothing smile appeared on the scarred features.

" _Forever_ ," he complied, yielding to the irresistible temptation and kissing the tip of the adorable nose.

 _'We're together now and we'll never be alone again! Never again!'_

 _'I love you. I love you so much, daddy! Don't go. Please, don't go again!'_

 _'Never! I'll never leave you, my baby. We will never be parted again. Never. Never! NEVER!'_

The tears poured unheeded down Leia's cheeks as she watched the scattered pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Her dreams, that had seemed so preposterous and far-fetched at first and had almost made her give up before even trying, had ultimately coalesced into the One picture that explained it all.

She rejoiced in the sight before her despite the shame she felt for being witness to something so painfully private. But it was so beautiful! So heartrendingly, devastatingly beautiful that she couldn't look away.

They were witnessing a miracle, pure and simple. Darth Vader's... _Anakin Skywalker's complete redemption_. And with it, _through_ it, the Light had spilled over like an uncontainable torrent and conquered the Darkness.

She couldn't wrap her mind around it. The Dark Side had been defeated not with Palpatine's demise, but with six little words - "I love you," and "I will stay."

It didn't need anything else.

She understood now the Emperor's frenzy to turn Luke or destroy him. He was the deciding factor that would tip the balance either in favour of the Light or the Dark. But his influence had extended far beyond him or anything that Palpatine could have ever foreseen. Luke's importance to _Darth Vader_ had been the variable that no one counted on. The Sith Lord's attachment to his son had brought Anakin Skywalker back, and turned the galaxy on its head.

So earthshakingly lovely in its simplicity. Defeated by love. Such had been the will of the Force.

The Force, that sang through her veins in sizzling bursts of joy, wild and free, bathing her in its healing power, confirming to her that her sacrifices had been worthwhile and there was nothing to fear anymore.

 _'The Force is everywhere. All around us.'_

It _was_ everywhere, all right. She was feeling _it_ , she was _floating_ in it - floating in the ocean of Love that Father and Son radiated. The Force was Love and Love was the greatest force of all. Luke and Anakin embodied that transcendental truth as if they were _made_ of it.

The Princess beamed. She was _finally_ looking at Anakin Skywalker. Meeting him for the first time, just like Auren 25 years ago. His features were dreadfully scarred; he looked decades older than he was, all worn and weathered; but at the same time, something youthful and... untainted swam in his deep blue eyes, in the loving warmth of his smile. Something that wrapped him in the same blissful euphoria she had experienced in her dream.

The same person indeed, made young and innocent again, glowing with love for his son.

Overcome by the avalanche of sublime emotions, she looked away at her friends.

Han's face was streaked with tears that lingered on his chin as if they didn't dare to fall to the floor. She'd never seen him cry, and it was such a profoundly personal moment that she knew she had no right to intrude on it.

Her eyes sought Lando, who stood biting his lower lip in a valiant attempt to hold his own, but his dark lashes were moist with unshed tears.

The hangar deck suddenly felt like it was falling down around her, and she _needed_ to focus on something to not lose herself.

Chewie's always supportive presence was her last chance and she craned her head back, looking for his kind, gentle eyes.

As if he'd been expecting it, Chewie tilted his head to one side when he met her gaze, and she would have sworn that he was _smiling_. With a little nod, he encouraged her to not be afraid to look. Sharing in a love like this wasn't an act of immodesty. It made you the most fortunate person in the universe. It made you blessed.

Taking in a jittery breath, Leia turned her eyes again to the two men kneeling on the cold floor, inwardly asking their forgiveness.

The brutal release of tension, the immeasurable relief at his father's pledge after spending days in agony over it, and the strain he'd put his body through had clearly caught up with Luke. He shivered as he pressed up against Anakin for dear life. In his aching need, he had to be bruising himself with all the sharp edges of his armour.

Anakin noticed right away and with a joint shudder, he quickly brought his arms around the small body, that looked even smaller in its fragility.

"You're trembling," he whispered in deep concern. Panic showed in his expressive eyes for a fraction of a second.

"I'm fine," Luke assured him eagerly, burying his face in the side of his neck and breathing in his scent. "I'm fine as long as we're together."

Closing his eyes, Anakin sighed powerlessly. Thinking fast, he brought his right hand up while he held his child securely against him. Unhooking his cape from his shoulder plate, he cocooned his son in it with such unbounded compassion and love that Leia felt faint. The young man all but disappeared under his father's cloak as the imposing black form rose to his feet with his child in his arms.

"Are you getting warm, angel?" Anakin asked, kissing Luke's forehead again.

Luke nodded, cuddling up to him needfully.

"Take us home," he murmured so weakly that Leia barely heard him.

Resting his head on his son's, Anakin blinked back tears.

"You are home, my treasure," he declared thickly. "Always will be."

Responding as one, Leia, Han, Chewie and Lando gathered around them. Leia bent down to pick up the mask and Han did the same with the helmet. Anakin's gaze met Leia's briefly and she gave him a smile that spoke louder than a million words. He returned it shyly before turning his eyes again to the single being who was the source of all his strength, his beginning and his end, his everything.

As they started for the doors, the Princess couldn't help but think that never had so much depended on apparently so little. She'd embarked on this crazy adventure to save someone she loved more than her own life, and they'd ended up saving two lives, the Rebel Alliance and the very galaxy they called home.

A warm, strong hand took hold of hers and she squeezed it fiercely, moving closer to the wonderful man walking beside her. She had never felt so close to him before, but to her surprise, she realized that the feeling of closeness went beyond them both. It was also in Chewie's paw on Lando's shoulder as they walked side by side in front of them, in Threepio's golden hand on the dome of a happily chirping Artoo; and shining bright like a beacon of hope for generations to come, it was in the redeemed Jedi Knight carrying his son back where they belonged.

It was _more_ than a feeling of belonging or togetherness. It was a feeling of soul-deep connection between them all. Of _family_.

It was so perfect.

They'd _all_ come home.

THE END.


End file.
